


Reflection of Happiness

by THIRTEENpointONE



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THIRTEENpointONE/pseuds/THIRTEENpointONE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumbelle AU: After hearing of Belle's passing from Regina, Rumplestiltskin tries to break time and space to bring her back. However, the person who comes back to him isn't the person he expected. In fact, Isabella French isn't whom he expected at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters belong to ABC/Disney/OUAT

_I'll find her._

_I'll find her, and bring her back home._

_Her father? Dead. The clerics? Dead_. He punish them all, torture them within an inch of their pitiful lives, before he killed them, slowly, and then he would find Belle and bring her back home. Her wounds would heal. He could fix her; restore her to her former self, and then keep her safe, forever, as he should have always done.

Rumplestiltskin's hands shook, as he repeated the mantra again,while Regina continued her cruel monologue. Something in her tone, though, wasn't right. There was something else, something else that she was holding back, as she airily continued describing Belle's torturous homecoming. He had felt that wicked, sick excitement of drawing out another's pain too many times himself on others, to not be able to recognize her satisfaction of drawing out the final sickening blow.

"She died."

_She—_ His mind went blank, failing him for the second time in his long, lonely life. _No. No, she couldn't be dead._ She had returned home; he had released her to return to her life, so she would to be able to live it out as intended, far away from the monster she was tied too. And Belle was young and vibrant, she would never have…no…she couldn't have done that. She was the bravest person he had ever come across in all of his years; she would never take her own life. His lip quivered, and he forced every bit of his willpower to still it. "You're lying," he breathed.

"Am I?" she replied, confidently arching her dark eyebrow.

She wasn't. He knew the truth immediately, after searching the realms with every bit of his dark magic, feeling out for any sense of her…and registering nothing. His body shook, his lips threatening to unleash the sobs that were quivering in his throat. Belle was gone. Dead. He couldn't… The only thing he could truly register was that he needed this bitch out of his presence—immediately. "We're done."

His nemesis, however, shared no such urgency for her to leave, taking her time to linger behind him. "Fine," she sighed. "I have other calls to make."

He heard her footsteps slowly catch up with his, her heels clicking on the wood floor, and he looked back, only to see her run her finger along his dining room table, examining it with distaste.

"Place is looking dusty, Rumple," she observed, airily, stopping in front of him. "You should get a new girl."

Magic flicked from his fingertips, his every sense screaming at him to kill her. Clenching his hand in a fist, he stopped himself— _Bae, the curse, Belle_ —all three came to mind in quick, successive flashes in his mind. _No, not yet,_ he reminded himself, pulling back his deadly power that was angrily humming at his fingers, as he continued to hold her gaze, pouring every bit of his last remaining hatred towards himself at her.

Regina held his glare for a long moment, before pulling back, smirking as she did so, and left; the doors slamming shut behind her.

The loud noise cut the invisible string from which he was holding himself up, and he sagged, feeling the weight of his three hundred years press down upon him; lifetimes of regret and sadness poured over him in an unrelenting wave of pain. _She's gone._

No other thought to come to mind, as he stood, breathing heavily at the closed doors. Even his immortality couldn't protect him against the sick, overwhelming feeling that he was truly alone now; that the one brief flicker of light that he had felt in his life been snuffed out. _She's gone._

It seemed impossible. She had just been here, in this very room, opening the curtains that now remained forever open. _She couldn't be dead. She couldn't be…_

He turned away from the doors, walking mindlessly towards the center of the room, pausing by the tea set. _"I'm so sorry, but, ah, it's…it's chipped." "Well, it's just a cup."_ His eyes automatically closed in pain at the memory, as another wave of nauseating sickness washed over him.

Suddenly, he had to urge to go find it—to go retrieve her cup from his cabinet. Leaving the tea set behind, he strode over to the large, inlaid cabinet, and opened up the French doors, not trusting to do it with his magic. This object needed to be handled with utmost care.

Her cup was placed in the center of the shelf, set amongst his most cherished possessions that he had traded from kings and queens. The small, porcelain teacup, unlike the other dusty objects in the case, had a fine sheen to it, from his daily handling of it. He took it out and carefully cradled it in his hands. It didn't belong there. Belle didn't belong there. _Belle…_

A gleam caught his eye, and he turned to the left, noticing a jeweled, silver chalice. He had traded the precious object from an emperor's wife, for providing her idiot husband with the awareness that he was indeed not as clothed as he believed. A mere trinket, one not worthy of deserving the place of honor that it resided in.

Decided, he picked up the chalice, with shaking hands, and replaced it with Belle's cup. Something broke in him, the moment he released it.

" _She died."_ The queen's words echoed in his mind, reverberating through his dark soul; he could feel the lone, flicker of light she had lit within him threaten to snuff out, as it was overwhelmed by the darkness, but he forced it away, clinging to it with every ounce of his being.

The chalice fell from his fingers, hitting the floor in a dull thud, and the sob that he had held in for so long broke free, forcibly shaking his body. Tears, which he had thought had long dried up after her departure, overwhelmed him again; spilling down his cheeks in long, hot streaks.

Feeling mortal for the first time in centuries, his body gave out, and he slid down to the floor, sobs wracking his slim frame. The evil within him mocked him, teased him, and called him a fool, but his sadness was too great for him to fight back. _She's gone._

He tried again to search her out, his dark consciousness slinking through the realms for any hint of her pulse, her breath, or her sweet voice calling out for help. Another sob broke out, as he once again felt nothing; the darkness continued to mock him, reminding him that she hadn't even called out his name for help in her most desperate moment. She had died…and he had never known.

How could he not have known? How could he have not felt her light snuffed out from the world, or known of the torture that she had endured in her absence? How had his magic failed him so? He was the Dark One—the most powerful being in all the realms—it was unacceptable, beneath him not to know such things. He sneered, growling to himself.

Grief quickly gave way to anger, and he pushed himself up off the floor and paced, thinking aloud, while cursing himself. He was all-powerful. Nothing could stop him. _Nothing_. He would get her back. There had to be a way. Death hadn't been conquered…yet. He would find a way—a loophole in death's contract.

With a new determination in his bones, he sprinted out of the room, and up the stairs to his turret, scattering his old potions and flasks with a broad sweep of his arm to clear the bench, and then removed the mess with a snap of his fingers.

Books, potions, foreign chemicals appeared in front of him, darting from different directions of the room, whizzing by his ears, as his giddy fingers swept through the pages, trying to find the words he was seeking.

Day gave way to night, as he continued to search. He gave no notice, as full seasons passed by though the open window behind him. It was of no matter to him, as he continued to work, fully absorbed in his task. The passage of time was the least of his concerns, especially not when it was the very thing he was seeking to break.

_There._ He grinned in triumph, a high-pitched giggle erupting from him, as he spotted the ancient spell in the thick tome; his hands twitched in excitement, magic sparkling at his fingertips.

Death would be conquered. He could, no, _would_ bring her back. He knew the loophole now. Simple, yet complicated. Not impossible, though. Certainly not impossible for someone like him. Magic couldn't bring back the dead, couldn't resurrect their lifeless bodies from the grave, but the rules said nothing about bringing back something that was alive from another time. Death's little loophole—one that he would exploit it to its fullest.

But first…he needed something.

~~~

"Oh, dearie, dearie, dear…quite the predicament you're in. Whatever shall you do?" He twittered in glee, as the Hatter swung around, his eyes wide in shock at Rumplestiltskin's intrusion in his home.

"You," he whispered, taking a step back towards the door.

"Me." He giggled again, giving an elaborate bow, before he stepped forward. "Rumplestiltskin, at your service."

"What do you want?" the man steely replied. It seemed that rejecting the Queen had given the man a false sense of confidence. However, it didn't mask the rank desperation that poured off the man. _Perfect._

"Why, I don't want anything, dearie. I simply want to make, shall we say…a counter offer to her Majesty's."

"You have nothing that I want. Leave."

Rumplestiltskin ignored him, as he continued to circle him, enjoying his little game. "Nothing at you want? Are you sure?" He walked over, picking up the small, battered doll off the child's play table.

Jefferson leapt forward, lunging for the doll. "Give that to me," he growled.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chided, holding the doll out of the man's reach. "It seems that I do have something you want," he giggled, his eyes widening with glee as the man lunged again. "Now, would you like to hear my offer?"

"I don't want anything from you, Rumplestiltskin. Leave. Now."

He frowned, feigning offense. "Not even a means to provide for your daughter? Take her out of this hovel, and have the means for her to live the life that you desire for her? Not even that?"

The man's resolve cracked for an instant. A mere flicker of his eyes and Rumplestiltskin knew he had him. He had stood outside, while the Queen had made her speech. It was a shame that she didn't know how to close a deal.

"Ahh…but you do want that. Don't you? Doesn't every father wish to provide the world for their child?" He took another step forward, raising his eyebrow, as he stroked the doll's head. "I can provide that, you know. Give you everything you want—you're little Grace would want for nothing—"

" _Don't_ say her name," he spat, his face contorting in a sneer.

He shrugged, brushing off the man's laughable, threatening pose. "But you do want the world for her, no? Give her more than your mere mushrooms can provide?" he continued.

"What do you want from me?"

"As I said before, I want nothing...I only wish to discuss an alternative proposal to which her Highness offered you."

"You want me to take you somewhere? I don't do that anymore, Imp. I'm done. As I told her, I don't abandon family."

Rumplestiltskin's measure of the man went up at the words. "Well, I never said anything about _abandoning_ your family, did I?" He grinned, placing the doll back in the man's hands. "You seem to believe that our dear Queen won't be back…won't force you to take her somewhere. She will, you know. She doesn't like not getting her way. And believe me, next time, she's not going to ask so nicely— or ignore your daughter hiding in the woods over there."

The man panicked, his eyes darting towards the door.

"She's safe….for now. I can sense these things, you see. I can also keep her safe, from certain evil Queen's guards. For a price, of course."

Turmoil raged in the man's eyes.

"But, of course, if I would, ah, remove the temptation, then her Majesty would have no choice but to leave you, and your precious, Grace, alone. And, per our deal, I would allow you to live out your days in comfort, safe from her clutches."

"And what is your price?"

He shrugged. "That little hat of yours, of course."

"I told you—no more."

Rumplestiltskin's heart beat widely in his chest, and he was instantly at the man's throat. "Why don't you listen closer this time, hmm?" he breathed, his deathly menace dripping off every word. "I don't want your assistance. I want. Your. Hat. " He stepped back, resuming his place an arm's width from the man, fluttering his hands. "A pittance of a price for what I'm offering you. Or, I can bring her Majesty back here, and we can see what she says on the matter. Oh, wait, she _will_ be back."

"Fine."

"What was that?" he asked, stepping forward until his face inches from the man's.

"Deal. You may take the hat, as long as you keep her away from my daughter."

Rumplestiltskin jumped back, clapping his hands together; the menacing monster instantly replaced by the gleeful imp once again. "Deal! Now, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Jefferson stood warily, his limbs riddled with tension.

"Well?"

He flinched.

"The hat," Rumplestiltskin said, flatly, motioning with his hand across the room.

Jefferson immediately fled to the other side of the room, returning with the cylinder shaped box, holding it protectively at his side. "How can I be sure that I can trust you?"

"A contract, then," he smiled, his skin crawling with irritation over the man's stubborness. A simple flick of his wrist produced a contract and quill out of thin air. "One signature, and it will be forever bound in magic."

"And I won't have to assist you in using it? This is only for the hat—no more?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Hat for your happiness. You see, I have no need for your talents; the hat is my price. It's quite simple, if you would only _sign_ the contract."

Jefferson sighed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and held out his hand for the quill.

Rumplestiltskin held it out to him with a flourish, trying to hold back his fingers from twitching in excitement. _So close, so close…_

A simple stroke of the pen, and magic flicked across the room, bounding him to the deal, and the box flung from Jefferson's arms into Rumplestiltskin's. "Wait—what?"

"The deal is struck," he declared with glee. "Must go get your daughter, now, dearie. Can't be off to your new life without her."

Jefferson made it a half a step to the door before he was engulfed in a cloud of purple smoke, instantly disappearing from the room.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. It was easier his way anyway. Not that the Hatter would mind once he saw where he sent him and his daughter. There was a recently vacated castle in town. He would be quite happy there, unlike a certain Duke...

_Now_ , he thought happily, tucking the box securely under his arm, _I have a certain potion to concoct._

~~~

The hat quickly proved to be every bit as meddlesome as its former owner. So many rules, and intricacies, were strictly interwoven in its magic—a certain same in, same out nonsense that wouldn't bend to his dark magic. It vexed him deeply, but didn't thwart him. _Nothing_ could do that, especially not when he was so close.

A whole season passed by, while he carefully unwove the small, magical fibers, rendering the once stiff, felt hat into a mere lump of brown material. His mind's eye arranged them, keeping them in perfect order, as he tore the hat apart. It was so very important that he made sure not to alter the sequence. At least, not alter it _yet_.

He smiled as he finally reached the last two strands, unraveling the fibers with the utmost care. _So close…_

With a small motion of his hand, the objects that he had collected over the course of the year flew to the bench behind him. A mermaid's tear, the precise ring of a blackworm tree trunk, the horn of a unicorn—precious, magical objects, which each took time and patience to procure, and now, with his latest acquisition, formed the complete collection for his potion, lest for one final object. An object, which he had dreaded collecting ever since he'd started this task.

Emotions that he had been able to keep at bay while he had worked, bubbled to the surface, and threatened to overwhelm him, as he left the comfort of the workroom, and made his way towards the east wing. _Her_ wing.

Steeling himself, he forced himself forward, walking slowly down the brightly lit corridor. Magic had preserved the wing in its original state, leaving it as if she had never left, but Rumplestiltskin hadn't ventured down here ever since the day she left him; the day he longed to forget. _No_ , he reminded himself, _he would make amends_. He would bring her back, and they would start over. No longer as master as slave, but as something…more.

He shook his head, forcibly clearing his thoughts, and froze, not realizing that he had arrived at his destination.

The large, double-pane, wood doors were elaborated carved with roses—a surprise from long ago. He reached forward with shaking hands, and let out the breath he was holding, turning the metal handle to open the door.

His lip trembled as he looked upon her room. It was a time capsule to a happier time—in fact, the only happy time he had experienced in all of his life as the Dark One.

Her clothes still lay neatly folded upon her chest, and ribbons for her hair still hung on a small hook of the small dresser by the intrinsically carved stained glass window. The bed was made, but an open book, on its center, suggested that the owner of the room was to return, to continue their reading.

" _This is my room?" "Unless, you prefer the company of the dungeon rats,"_ he had retorted. Rumplestiltskin stilled at the memory, his hand frozen above a small chest he had given her. He swallowed, trying to remind himself why he was here, and what he needed.

It took him little time to find it. Belle was nothing if not the neatest person he had ever come across, and her hairbrush was placed right next to her ribbons. Even though he needed only one strand of hair, Rumplestiltskin took the brush, and fled the room, as soon as it was tucked securely away in his pocket, the large doors closing behind him with a resounding bang.

With all of the elements in place, he jogged back up to his turret, skipping every other step, not wanting to waste one more moment. He cleared everything not necessary with a swipe of his hand, motioning for his various tools to appear before him. His heart pounded; he only had one attempt at this. There was only one hat that he knew of in existence and it was in shreds before him. If this didn't work…he forced the idea from his mind. He was going to find her, and bring her back. He _would_ see her again.

The thought of seeing her again made his heart pound harder and his hands shake, forcing him to draw upon his dark nature to expel any thoughts about her as he made the potion. He couldn't have any distractions for concocting something so precise.

He first took the ring of the tree—taken from the precise time that Belle had resided in the Dark Castle—and burned it with a burst of bottled dragon's fire, rendering it to a white ash. Next, he took the unicorn horn and mermaid tear, and ground them to a fine powder, adding it to the mix, swirling the elements together in a glass tube. Finally, he took the strands from the hat, arranging them precisely, and removed one, replacing it with a strand of Belle's own hair.

The powder from the three objects had disintegrated into a glowing, blue potion, which sparkled in the candlelight. Drawing from the power within him, he took the hat fibers, and lifted them to the air, spinning them in a tornado, which spun faster, and faster, until they merged, instantly falling to the ground, revealing the hat's original shape.

_It's done._ His hands shook with nervous excitement. All that was needed now was to cast the magic, and let the hat do its work.

Rumplestiltskin took the vial in hand, holding it with care, as he cleared the far wall of his workroom, leaving it completely clear. _Please, come back to me,_ he thought, throwing the vial at the wall.

The vial instantly shattered in a loud explosion. When the dust settled, a shimmery purple portal was in place of the wall. It looked like a living thing, pulsing and contouring, as magic shimmered across it.

Rumplestiltskin picked up the hat, without further ado, and threw it at the wall. It instantly disappeared; absorbed into the wall's syrupy consistency. _Work, work, work,_ he breathed, shaking hard.

Nothing happened though. _Nothing._ The wall stood as is, pulsing, and vibrating, but nothing happened. Rump blinked in disbelief, his mind whirling and body threatening to collapse. It was perfect. His plan was perfect. Why didn't anything happen?

"Bring her back to me!" he yelled at the shimmering, purple wall, throwing a table full of tools across the room in frustration.

The wall didn't produce anything though, remaining constantly in motion. " _Damn_ you!" he yelled again, stalking towards the swirling wall. "Bring her back!"

As before, the wall didn't respond his threats, and he was too scared to meddle with it and try and alter the magic to try something else.

Something broke in him, realizing his failure, and he slid down to the floor on his knees. "Come back to me," he pleaded again, his rollercoaster of emotions quickly sliding into grief. "Please. Please come back."

He closed his eyes, slumping his shoulders, as the unwelcome realization that it hadn't worked crept in. "Please," he whispered again.

_**BAM!** _

Rumplestiltskin could barely react fast enough as the wall exploded, and powerful magic expanded out towards him, hurtling a large object at him, sending him against the room with it's extreme force, before it imploded upon itself.

His conscious could barely catch up as he realized what he was holding in his arms. She was clothed strangely, but her face…he would recognize her beautiful face anywhere. "Belle," he croaked, cradling her in his arms.

Her head lolled to the side, and he panicked. _No, no, no,_ he pleaded, bending his ear to her mouth, nearly collapsing again in relief that she was breathing. Not dead, just unconscious.

"Belle," he whispered again, stroking her face. A wet drop fell on her face and he brushed it away, quickly realizing that it was from him, and he brushed his wet cheeks, laughing as he did so. He did it. He brought her back. His Belle was back. He pulled her to his chest, holding her tight again, careful not to hurt her, but needing to have her close again. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Belle. I'm never going to let you go again," he sobbed into her hair. A muffled cry startled him and he pulled back so he could see her.

Belle's eyelids were twitching, as if she was trying to stir from sleep, and they finally opened. The same blue eyes that he had come to cherish so much, gazed upon him once again. She blinked, unfocused, and frowned, her face contorting in pain.

He brushed her cheek again. "Belle? Belle, I'm here."

Her eyes blinked open again at his voice, and she looked at him, her eyes widening in shock for a brief second, before they rolled back in her head, and she passed out once again.

"Belle!" he cried, trying to stir her again, but she was out cold, her body once again going limp in his arms. Afraid to use any more magic, he picked her up in his arms, holding her tight, and carried her down the steep steps. Her room as too far away, but his was only a few steps away.

Decided, he took Belle to his room, placing her carefully on the bed. The toll of using such powerful magic, and taking the price upon himself, made him feel week, and woozy, but then, his mind was still in disbelief that she was here. His Belle. Alive. In his bed.

Unable to contain himself, he stroked her cheek again, feeling the soft strands of her hair between his fingers. His hands, hell, his whole body, was shaking, nearly violently so. She was just as perfect, and as beautiful, as he had remembered.

Night soon turned into dawn, while Rumplestiltskin continued his vigil at Belle's bedside. He would be lying if he said he wasn't worried that she hadn't stirred. All magic came with a price, but he had made sure when casting the potion that it would be only he, whom the magic would enact its cost. However, despite her long rest, her face was a picture of calm, and her breathing was even and true.

The morning light soon filtered in, casting a warm ray across the room, and onto the bed, allowing him to see her fully. She was clothed in thin, men's clothing, of such a sort he had never seen before. Her jacket and breeches were dark, nearly black, and made out of a material that was soft, almost like a fine silk. It was…odd, and completely inappropriate for a lady such as she. _What sort of tailor would make such a garment?_

He looked closer, noticing some etching inscribed on the brass buttons on her wrists. Armani Collezioni. _Who?_ He scanned his memory, seeking out any hint of recognition, but could find none. Maybe this Collezioni was in the employ of the court? Clothing a lady, such as his Belle, in this though, was unacceptable.

His hand brushed her jacket pocket, and it crinkled. Intrigued, he carefully removed the two pieces of paper from it, trying not to disturb her.

The first paper was one of the purest white pieces of parchment that he had ever seen. The writing on it was incredibly precise, obviously written with a skilled, careful hand, as all the letters were exactly the same size and height. A skilled hand, indeed. The message itself was as much of a befuddlement to him as was her clothing. On the top, was a larger script— _Granny's Dinner._ Written below, was a list of items, along with what he could assume was a price of services. However, her recognized none of it. _Cappuccino? Caesar Salad? What in the worlds was this ledger for?_

The second piece was just as intriguing, written on a similar parchment, with a small, drawing of a _SS &L_ seal at the top, with the words— _Storybrooke Savings & Loan_—written below it. There were nearly all numbers written on this one, with only a couple words—account, balance, deposit, and statement—written on it. He recognized all of those words, but why they would have a long series of numbers behind them puzzled him.

Belle suddenly stirred, faintly murmuring in her sleep, causing him to leap away from the bed in guilt. Her eyes remained closed though, so he quietly returned to her side, carefully opening the pocket to replace the pieces, only to cause her jacket to fall away from her torso, revealing a soft, silk, blue shirt underneath, which was tailored down to the swell of her— _oh, gods_. He quickly covered her back up, not wanting to have her wake to him fondling her. A strange tailor, indeed.

Thankfully, though, she didn't appear hurt, and he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he had correctly collected her from the time before her torture. He had been precise in his choosing of the time—two months after she had arrived at the castle. The choice was an easy one, as it was the happiest time of his life. The time period he chose also assured him that when he brought her back, she would recognize him. This clothing she was dressed in though, was a little unsettling, but not peculiar enough for him to be distracted enough for him to care. All he needed was lying right in front of him. He would conjure her more clothing—clothing beyond her wildest dreams. She would want for nothing.

She stirred again, bringing his focus back to her. His heart pounded harder as he watched her slowly awake, her consciousness slowly coming to, as her limbs stretched out, and she turned onto her side, facing him.

He held his breath, as she brought a hand up to rub her eyes, all the while making soft noises, her body protesting getting drawn out of her slumber.

Finally, she took a deep breath, which broke into a yawn, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Belle," he whispered, his voice betraying him and cracking with emotion.

Belle's eyes immediately shot open and she looked directly at him. It took a mere second, before her pupils focused and widened, and she let out a blood-curling scream, scrambling away across the bed.

Alarmed, he jumped up, moving cautiously towards her, as she ran towards the door. "Belle, it's okay. You've been—"

"Oh god, oh god," she pleaded, tugging at the handle with all of her weight.

"Belle," he tried again, reaching out, trying to still her.

She immediately reacted, swinging around, and elbowing him in the head. He faltered for a brief moment, and she seized the opportunity to stab her foot down at his instep, and knee him in the chest, causing him to fall to the floor.

He was so taken aback by her violent reaction, that he stayed on the floor, watching her run to the other side of the room. Of all the reactions he expected her to have – this extreme, skilled violence was not one of them. "Belle, I'm sorry," he tried again, hoping that it was the right thing to say.

She ignored him, running towards the large windows, and tried grabbing one of the hinges.

"Belle, NO!" he screamed, a vision of Regina's story of her leaping from the tower flashing in his mind, and he pulled her to him in an instant.

Belle closed her eyes in fright, trembling all over, tears streaming down her face. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up—"

"Belle, I—" He froze mid-sentence, suddenly realizing that his magic was holding her in place, hovering over the floor. He immediately released her, and she fell down in a heap at his feet.

She immediately scrambled back, her eyes glassy and wide. "Please, don't hurt me," she pleaded.

No other words could have struck a bigger blow, and he felt physically sick. "I would never—Belle, it's me. Don't you remem—"

"Please, let me go," she cried, moving further away from him, unrecognition and terror clearly apparent in her eyes. "Just let me go."

No, _those_ words hurt more, and he stood there in shock. His Belle, the person he had literally broken time and space for, was trying to leave him once again.

"Please," she whispered again, a lone tear spilling down her cheek.

Rumplestiltskin swallowed, blinking back his own tears that were quickly welling in his eyes, and flicked his wrist, causing the door beside her to swing open.

Without looking back, or saying another word, she turned and fled. Again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm so sorry to keep you waiting so long for an update for this one (Black-Flagged is coming next, I promise). I've been sick as a dog for the past three weeks, so I haven't been able to write. But I'm finally back in action, so here's the next chapter for this one. Hope you enjoy it!

_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up._

Bella French darted right, barreling around the corner, and stopped dead in her tracks. Her jaw dropped in dismay, as she found herself at the start of yet another endless, darkened hallway. _This can't be happening. This can't be real. This_ has _to be a dream._

Hot tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision, as she dug her nails into her arm yet again. "Wake _up_ ," she hissed. The increasing sharp pain made her stop. Bella glanced down at her forearm, finding small, red, hash marks, beading with blood, and swallowed hard, blinking away her stinging tears. It just…it just couldn't be real. Her mind whirled as she tried to comprehend that she was really trapped in this labyrinth. It was unbelievable, and yet, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the reality that she was indeed awake—and trapped.

The faint sound of footsteps echoed behind her, and sent another rush of blind panic shooting through her veins. Bella bolted down the carpeted hallway in a dead run. Like the numerous others she had just ran through, the candelabras immediately lit, in perfect sequence, at her intrusion. The unwelcome illumination only encouraged her to run faster in the hope of not being caught in the view of the man chasing her.

Without warning, the heel on her right shoe suddenly snapped, sending her flying through the air, and landing hard on her side.

Pain shot through her hip, but she ignored it; instead, she scrambled to tear off her shoes' small straps, breaking one clasp in her urgency. The broken one was no use to her, but she grabbed the intact shoe, sensing that she could use it as a weapon of some kind, if needed.

With the smooth efficiency of a conditioned runner, she pushed herself up and immediately regained her lost stride, sprinting towards light rays on the carpet ahead. She hoped that the light meant that there was finally a window she could look out of, so she could at least see where she was. After running down a dozen endlessly long hallways, she had yet to find a single window not covered by large curtains. A view, even an obscured one, would be useful, just so she could determine which direction to run, and to see which level she was on.

 _What—what is this place?_ Bella's panicked thoughts ran together in a mindless stream, as she gazed through the window in front of her. _Where am I?_ It was…it was a castle. An actual castle. That man had taken her to an actual, honest-to-god, castle. _Holy shit. How had he—_ She stopped her thoughts with a hard shake of her head, trying to forcibly ignore thinking about the "why," and instead, trying to focus on finding a way down. From this window, it was clear that she was too high to jump or climb down. She needed to find an exit, and fast.

_**Creak…** _

Bella gasped, blindly throwing her shoe in the direction of the sound behind her, as she spun around. _Oh, god._ The two large doors that had been shut behind her were now open, revealing a pitch, dark space beyond. _Oh, god, oh god, oh god._ Her heartbeat hammered in her ears, drowning out all sound as she stared at the open doorway in frozen terror.

She didn't even dare breathe, let alone move, lest the man was waiting for her on the other side of doors. However, her nerves quickly proved to be unable to bear the unnerving silence, and she took a tentative step to the side, away from the doors, while trying to be a quiet as she could. The hallway ended in a large open space a mere twenty-feet away. If only she could reach it…

Lights suddenly turned on within the room, revealing a large, expansive bedroom. Bella gasped and immediately bolted away from the light, running as hard as she could from the door, nearly falling when the carpet suddenly transitioned into a smooth, grey marble.

Righting herself, Bella let out a prayer of thanks finding a wide staircase in front of her, and flew down the stairs. Spurred on by the motion detection candles that seemed to betray her every step, she ran down the stairs, skipping steps, and nearly falling numerous times when her bare feet lost their purchase on the smooth surface.

She was nearly out of breath when the staircase finally revealed wide, arched landing. Bella stopped and jumped back, hiding behind a large pillar. Before her, down one more short flight of stairs, was a large entryway. _That has to be the front door_ , she thought, noting the two, large iron-clad doors on the far side of the hall, as well as the various decorative objects around the room—a table with a bowl of roses, two suits of armor, and a stuffed, rearing bear.

Freedom called to her, but it seemed too easy, though. She had seen, or rather, Ruby had forced her to watch, far too many scary movies to know that the man might be baiting her into a trap, so he could grab her in the open area, so she waited, trying to hear if he was nearby.

Bravery had never been her strongest suit, far from it in fact, but she quickly sensed that she had no other choice other than to make a run for the door, lest she be captured again. She waited for one more long moment, hearing nothing but deafening silence, and then took off at a dead run, leaping down the final five steps.

She reached the large, wooden doors in seconds, and grabbed the large, iron latch, and pulled it with all of her might. Nothing. _No!_ She quickly searched for a hidden lock, but found none, so she took the handle in both hands and leaned back with all of her weight, trying to pry the door open. _Come on, come on, come on!_

The distinct sound of footsteps, on the marble behind her, caused her to freeze in place, and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. With her heart beating wildly in her chest, she slowly turned around, keeping her hands on the handle.

"Belle?"

Tears welled in her eyes again, at the sight of the strangely costumed man standing near the table, in the center of the room. Now, in the bright light of the entryway, she was finally able to get a good look at him, and realized that her memory was correct, in that he had indeed painted himself gold, which starkly contrasted with the bright, iridescent blue of his shirt. Even his eyes were strange from this distance. The reptilian contact lenses, he was wearing, made his iris' appear huge and frighteningly inhuman.

"Please," she whispered, hearing her voice crack in terror again. "Let me go."

The man flinched as if she struck him, and she watched his chest heave as he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Please, let me explain—"

She shook her head, unnerved by his show of emotion and peculiar tone of voice. "Just let me go," she pleaded again, trying the handle again. It remained locked.

He looked up at her, and she felt a strange pang of pity for the horribly sad look on her captor's face, as gazed upon her, fidgeting his hands, clenching and unclenching this fists at his sides.

Suddenly, both doors swung open in front of her, revealing a large terrace, gardens, and most importantly, an open gate far down at the end of a long driveway. Bella jumped back slightly in surprise. She gave the man one, last, quick glance over her shoulder, and then took off at a dead run before he could change his mind.

She thought she heard him say something, but didn't pause or dwell on it. She had only one goal—to get through that gate at the far end. The small gravel, paving the long drive, made her stagger her stride as the stones cut unmercifully into her bare feet, but she tried her best to ignore it. Freedom was within her reach; she could deal with her feet later.

The gates seemed to sense her escape, and began to slowly close. "No!" she cried out, and tried to run faster, but it was a losing battle. She was too far away.

Bella gave a quick glance over her shoulder; he was there, watching her, his dark shadow looming in the outline of the front doors. With the last bit of energy she had, she drove her feet into the ground, pushing off with as much force as she could, her chest heaving in effort. The large, three-story gates continued their slow closure. _Come on!_ she egged herself on, pushing herself harder.

She was within three-feet when the gap narrowed to the point that it was nearly closed. Without a moment to waste, Bella launched herself sideways, jumping through the narrow space. She nearly made it through, but the gates closed on her, pinching the back of her jacket in their large hinges, trapping her.

 _No!_ Bella growled. She wasn't about to let herself be stopped this way. With some quick maneuvering, she slid out of the jacket, leaving it pinned to the gate. She looked up and around at the large gate and ivy-covered stonewall, and nearly collapsed in relief.

Looking down, she noticed a trail of footprints marking her tracks. Her mind caught up a second later and she realized that it was from her bloody feet. Without wasting a moment, she ran back to the gate and tore off the arms from the designer jacket. With the two strips of fabric in her hand, Bella took off, down the dirt road, not wanting to linger by the gate any longer.

The damp, soft earth was a welcome relief to the soles of her feet, allowing her to ease into a familiar stride, albeit a stilted one as her feet began to ache more and more with every footstep. Soon though, the pain seemed to melt away, allowing her to run even faster.

While she ran along, she kept her eyes peeled for any sign of the man, or any sound of his car in pursuit. However, she was met with only the quiet noises of the forest around her. He had definitely taken her far out of the area, which made her slightly nauseous, thinking about how he had abducted her from her home. The last memory she had was of coming home, after getting a quick dinner at Granny's, and sitting down on the couch. She had been planning on taking a quick nap before she started on her work for tomorrow. After that, all she remembered was waking up to this nightmare.

 _Where am I?_ she thought again, slowing her stride. She had run in nearly every part of Storybrooke, but none of these trees looked even vaguely familiar. Maybe he had taken her across the border to Canada? She had spotted the snow-capped mountains in the window and it was too early for any snow in Maine, or anywhere in the northeast for that matter. All she knew was that she needed to find a police station, or a phone. Everything else could wait.

Bella only made it a mile down the road before her feet finally caused her to stop, due to the discomfort of the cuts. She took one more look around the road, and then ducked behind a large tree trunk, sitting down in the dry dirt beside it.

Her feet looked even worse than she feared, but she forced herself not to dwell on it, as she crudely tied the arm sleeves around each of them. Thankfully, her feet were small enough to allow her to be able to wind the material several times around, creating a slight cushion.

Looking up at the sky, she tried, but couldn't tell exactly what time it was. However, the soft rays filtering through the tree line, made it appear to be morning. At least, she thought, she had that in her favor. She didn't want to think about what was going to happen if she didn't find help by nightfall.

With that new fear fresh in her mind, Bella pushed herself up off the ground, brushing herself off, and then, took off into a jog again, keeping towards the side of the road in case the man decided to pursue her. Strangely, she sensed that he wasn't going to. He had been so sad, calling her Belle of all things. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and jogged onwards.

Nearly an hour later, Bella finally had to break her stride, feeling nauseous from running for so long with no food or water. She had still yet to see a single person, car, or sign. The only comfort, she was holding on to, was that the road seemed to be well maintained. She inferred that that had to be some sort of sign that at least someone frequented it, or she was at least somewhere near civilization.

Really, she just didn't know what else to do, other than continue down the road. Her blouse and pants were ruined, completely soaked through with dirt and sweat. She knew from her late-night marathons of _Discovery Channel_ survival shows that she was supposed to find a high point in the area, so she could see where she was, and to look for any sign of people. However, none of the shows had ever mentioned what to do when you were a barefoot, recently freed captive, running away, down a road, in an endless forest where you couldn't see anything. In fact, the forest was so thick that she couldn't see more than a half-dozen paces into the woods. Thus, she walked on, hoping that by some miracle, a car would pass, or she would spot someone.

Without warning, her right quad suddenly seized up in an immobilizing cramp. "Shit," Bella cursed, grabbing the leg. The leg continued to cramp up, forcing her to stop. Frustration ran through her. " _Help_!" she screamed out. "Is anyone out there? Help!"

The only reply she received was another wave of cramps, seizing up her leg. "Dammit!" she cursed, crumpling to the ground. She growled in frustration, pounding her hand on the dirt. It just wasn't fair. It was if karma had come back to haunt her for all of the years of her cursing her evil clients, and unrelenting job.

In fact, she would give anything to be back in town, going through Regina's books, and working on her contracts. And, of course, it had to be today of all days that she was lost in the woods, after being kidnapped by some costumed psycho. Today was supposed to be the day Mr. Gold was finally going to join her for tea.

Over the years she had worked with him, or rather filed lawsuits on others' behalf against him, Bella had come to harbor a secret affection for the prickly real estate mogul, and part-time antiquities dealer. Of course, she had never dared admitted her feelings to anyone, let alone Gold of all people, but she had hoped that tea could have at least been a start to get to know him outside of work. In fact, it had taken her an embarrassingly long amount of time to even work up the courage to ask him, until finally yesterday, after she had presented him with yet another of Regina's city ordinances, condemning one of his buildings, she had burst out, awkwardly asking him to join her for afternoon tea. Not an ideal sort of circumstances by any means, but it had provided her with enough opportunity for her to ask him, and he had graciously accepted.

However, now, who knew if she would ever get another chance with Gold, or if she would ever work up the courage to ask him again for that matter. It seemed as if she was destined to never be able to get to know him, truly know him, how she wished to. Plus, now that she was going to miss their tea, he was probably going to assume that she stood him up. While Gold had thankfully never taken Regina's unending lawsuits out against her personally, she did know, from years of being the mayor's legal representation, and working with him, that he didn't give anyone second chances.

Tears of frustration began to well in her eyes at the thought. She didn't even try to prevent them from falling in hot streaks down her face. She was too exhausted to care. Her feet were torn up, her body was near collapse, and she was completely lost. An unwelcome sob broke free from her chest, and she began to cry, the events of the day suddenly overwhelming her.

The loud cracking of branches breaking nearby, made Bella immediately cease her crying and jump up, her stomach leaping into her throat. Unable to see what was heading in her direction, she quickly hid behind the large tree trunk. She shook violently with fear as she heard the branches and pounding of footsteps grow closer. All she knew was that it sounded _big._

The rustling suddenly stopped and a loud, familiar-sounding snort announced its presence on the other side of the tree.

Bella peeked around at the sound of the horse, hoping that there was a rider, but strangely, no one was atop the large, black horse that was adorned in a golden bridle, breast collar, and saddlecloths. The extravagance of the tack was, in a word, odd, but then, Bella wasn't in the position to judge.

"Hey," Bella called out softly, walking up closer to the stallion. "Shh…whoa," she quietly soothed the animal, grabbing hold of its bridle.

Large leather saddlebags were strapped to each side, and one of the stirrup irons was snagged in the gullet, under the front pommel. From all appearances, it seemed that the rider had been thrown at some point.

"Hello! Is anyone out there?" Bella yelled out.

The horse jumped at her loud shout, but she held him steady.

" _Hello?"_ she called out louder. "Can anybody hear me?"

However, no one answered her call, except for the birds, quiet chirping in the trees above.

 _Great,_ she thought. _What the hell am I supposed to do now?_ She wasn't about to abandon a person lost out in the forest, especially if they had been thrown and needed help. She quickly opened the saddlebag closest to her, hoping to find a cell phone, or some sort of identification of the owner's; instead, she found some wrapped parcels of food, neatly wrapped in paper, and a coin purse filled with golden coins. She picked up one of the coins to examine it closer. _Holy…these can't be real._ They were marked with a dragon's head and indecipherable writing on either side, and were heavier than any currency she had ever held, but surely, they couldn't be pure gold. That would be utterly insane for someone to carry that much in a saddlebag, that was otherwise packed for someone on a day ride. _No, they had to be fake, or plated at the very least._

"Well, boy, let's go find your owner, shall we?" she asked the stallion, slipping her muddied foot into the metal stirrup. Swinging herself up with the skill honed from many hours in the saddle, due to her Regina's insistence of conducting their some of their meetings at the stables, she settled herself in the saddle, finding the stirrups perfectly set for her height.

Bella let out a sigh of relief at the welcome sensation of finally being off of her feet, as she lightly kicked the stud forward. The horse immediately responded to her cue, promptly walking off at a calm, steady pace, despite the undoubtedly strange sensation of her muddied, bare feet against his side. She gave him a little pat of thanks and gestured him forward again, pushing him off into a trot.

The horse's tracks through the thick brush proved to be easy to follow; he had destroyed a clear path of shrubbery in his haste. In no time, Bella could see that the path led them up a hill. Encouraged that she might not only find a person to tell her where she was, but also that she might be able to reach the top and finally be able to see where she was, she urged the stallion faster, breaking him into a slow canter.

She rode through the trees, zigzagging up a switchback, following the clear path all the while, however she never came across any trace of the horse's owner. Abruptly though, the tracks stopped in front of her. Confused, she reined the horse around, trying to see if she had missed something, but sure enough, there was only one path, and it dead-ended here. "Shoot," she muttered, turning the horse around again. This time, when she finally looked up from the ground, she realized that they had stopped at a tree break that allowed her a view of the entire mountain valley.

Her jaw dropped at the vast, picturesque vista in front of her. A huge, white-capped mountain range surrounded the valley below her. The forest was so thick that she couldn't make out any sort of buildings at all. However, far to her right, at the edge of the forest, seemed to be a large clearing, and what appeared to be a town of some sort. _Where am I?_

Fear bubbled up within her again. She was at a loss of what to do. She could try and make for the town, but if this horse's owner was nearby, and possibly hurt… Bella wheeled the horse around trying to find any sort of trace of a trail. She was far from any sort of tracker, and with the trail gone, she had no choice other than to backtrack down the mountain and try for the village. Once there, she would be able to get help for the both of them.

With the sun centered high in the sky, Bella turned the horse around and began to edge her way back down the steep path. Thankfully, it wasn't hard to re-trace her tracks, and she was able to move at a faster pace back down to the road. It had seemed, from her quick viewing of the area, that the road she had been on lead to the town. The knowledge renewed her spirits and gave her a sense of purpose as she neared the dirt road.

Once on the muddy path, she kicked the stallion into an easy gallop. Her body ached with a weary tiredness from her earlier run, but her mount's smooth gait carried her with a welcoming ease.

Much like along her run, the road proved to be endlessly similar, with no discerning landmarks, signs, or traces of anyone living nearby. If not for her knowledge of the town ahead, Bella would've lost her mind in frustration and hopelessness.

Her throbbing head and aching stomach finally made her slow her horse down to a stop, so she could investigate what the rider had packed for their afternoon snack. "Whoa," she softly called out to the stallion, keeping hold on one of the reins as she twisted around to open the leather satchels.

The first pouch she opened was stocked full of wrapped sandwiches, dried strips of meat, apples, a bag of nuts, along with a bag of golden coins. Bella's stomach growled at the sight of so much food, and she immediately unwrapped one of the sandwiches, taking a tentative bite of it. _Oh, god, this is the best sandwich I've ever had_ , she thought, savoring another bite. She couldn't have made a better sandwich herself. Even the bread tasted homemade.

As she ate the sandwich, she turned in her seat to open up the second saddlebag, finding another, larger bag of the same golden currency, as well as a large, leather canteen filled with liquid.

Bella sniffed the canteen, and took a little sip. It was just water— fresh, cool water at that. Her long-neglected thirst quickly proved to be nearly insatiable, as she greedily gulped the water down. She nearly finished half of the large, quart-sized canteen, before she finally stopped herself in order to save some for later. She securely capped it and twisted back around to place it back in the bag. However, at the same moment she placed it in the bag, her horse shied to the side, away from her movement, causing her to drop the canteen. _Shit._

"Horse," she growled, swinging her leg off. "I _really_ don't need this today. A little help is all I'm asking for, okay?"

She trudged over, reins in hand, and picked up the canteen, which thankfully remained sealed.

She was about to return the canteen to the saddlebag, when her mount suddenly spooked, running backwards away from her.

"I swear, horse! I am _not_ in the mood!"

The stallion paid no mind to her threats; instead, he stood frozen in place, his muscles twitching on end, as he stared off into the distance at something behind her. Bella turned around, her own nerves immediately on end as she tried to ease towards him, to get a better hold on the reins, anticipating a bolt.

Once close enough to grab hold of the bridle, she turned around to look at where the horse was still staring. As hard as she tried to see, or hear, what was scaring him, the quiet, dark woods appeared to be identical to the other many miles of woods she had already traveled past.

A long, tense moment passed, with her mount's ears still fixed on a point in distance, before Bella finally decided that there was nothing to fear. She pet the horse, soothing it, and then put her foot back in the iron to mount him once again. "It's okay, boy. There's nothing there."

_**Crack!** _

Bella jumped back, along with her horse, nearly losing her grip on the reins as the stud ran backwards again. The clear sound of brushes rustling filled her ears. Someone, or something, was walking towards her. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," she fervently commanded the frightened animal. The noises grew louder, continuing in her direction. Finding a courage that she didn't know she possessed, she steeled herself and yelled out: "Hello? Is someone there?"

The bushes rustled some more and Bella watched as a slight, middle-aged man emerged from behind a large tree, holding a walking stick. She stepped back, torn from being relieved and frightened. "Hello? Sir?" she called out quieter, losing her fleeting courage by the second.

The man, as if unaware of her presence until now, looked up, and pushed the long strands of hair off of his face. "Oh," he quietly remarked in a strange, accented voice, "Forgive me, m'lady. I didn't mean to startle you. Do you need help?"

Bella opened her mouth to respond, but before she could stop herself, she burst into tears of relief. Her body shook with racking sobs, as she tried to nod, blubbering out words of "thank you" and "yes" towards the bewildered man, who quickly made his way over to her.

"Are you lost?" the man quietly asked, his voice full of concern.

"Yes," she sobbed, barely able to speak. "I was…I am…someone took me out here," she tried to explain, unable to stifle her unending tears. "I don't know where I am. I was just trying to find a town, so I could get help. I just need help," she repeated, blubbering through her thick tears. "Do you know where I can go, or do you have a cell phone on you, so I can call for help?"

"No, I'm sorry I don't." The man reached out to lightly touch her arm, but he recoiled it back to his side at the briefest moment of contact. "Are you hurt?"

Bella frowned, slightly taken aback by his question, and gave herself a quick onceover. "No, no, I don't think so. I…no. I think I'm okay."

"And this person, who took you out here, did you know him, or recognize him?"

Her abductor's strange face, and large, frightening eyes passed through her mind, unasked for and unwelcome. "No," she said, a fresh sob breaking through. "I've never seen him before in my life."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yes. He was…" she trailed off, shrugging helplessly at her utter loss for words to describe him. "I just need to get out of here and get help."

The man nodded. "I know of a nearby town, if that's where you wish to go. Or," he paused, licking his lips, "if you are headed towards Avonlea, I can give you directions there as well."

"Is Avonlea closer?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's quite a distance away, I'm afraid."

"Then, whichever one is closest. Really, if you know of anywhere with a phone, it doesn't have to be a city— just a gas station, house, or anything—I'd really appreciate it."

A flicker of confusion crossed over his features, but it was quickly replaced by a quiet confidence. "There's a town, up the road, about a half-a-day's walk from here," he said, slowly. "You don't remember passing by it on your way?"

Bella whipped her head around to where he was gesturing. It was the same direction from where she just came. "No, I…I was just there," she frowned in confusion. "There wasn't a town at all. When I was up on the mountain, I saw a town to the south of here—it looked like it was near a meadow."

"Carrbridge."

"Is that closer?"

"No, it's a little farther," he frowned, leaning on his stick while gesturing with his free hand. "I can tell you how to get there, too, if you wish."

"I don't know where I'm going," she said, sniffling, finally feeling back in control of herself. "Whatever one is closest will work."

"Strathaven, then." The man looked away, towards the road, and then back at her, his eyes flicking to her face nervously. "I'm actually headed that direction, myself. If you would like me to escort you there, I would be happy to help, m'lady," he quietly offered.

Bella felt herself tearing up again in gratitude at the man's gesture. "You wouldn't mind?" After being lost for so long, this Good Samaritan's offer to help her made her want to cry all over again.

"Of course not. We mustn't have you wandering the Dark Forest by yourself."

"The Dark Forest? That's what they call this place?"

"Yes, and aptly named, I assure you. It is no place for a lady, such as yourself to travel alone."

"It's dangerous here?" she asked, suddenly alarmed by his serious tone.

"You have nothing to fear. I'll get you to the town safe."

His quiet confidence instantly calmed her fears. "Good, because after today…I don't think I can handle anything else," she admitted with a nervous laugh. "By the way, you're not a secret serial killer or anything, are you?"

The man's eyes widened. "Ahh…"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—" she grimaced in apology at her failed quip. "It's been just one of those days, you know? I'm Isabella, by the way, or Bella, Mr.…"

"Charming."

"Charming? Like the prince, then?" Bella giggled.

"Oh, no, I'm much more reliable than the genuine article at navigating these woods."

Bella laughed again at his attempt at levity. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Prince Charming. Is that really your name? Charming?"

"Ah, no, dearie it isn't."

"And what is your name, then?"

His mouth opened and closed, as if her question had taken him aback. "Baelfire…Bae," he quietly offered.

"Bae," she smiled. "That's a lovely name. I don't believe I've ever heard it."

He nodded back, tight lipped, in thanks.

"Well, Bae, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you offering to help me."

A flicker of something Bella couldn't place crossed his face again, as he nodded, tentatively matching her a shy smile. "It's no matter." He stopped, frowning down at her feet. "What happened? You said you weren't injured."

Bella drew a blank at his question, but then quickly remembered her feet. Numb and muddied, she had long forgotten about them. "Oh…I lost my shoes," she explained. "I had to improvise."

Out of nowhere, the man swung a large pack from around behind his shoulders. "Here," he said, his voice becoming excited. "I have a spare pair."

"A spare pair of shoes?" she asked incredulously.

"Indeed," he smiled, producing two ankle-high, leather boots.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly take them from you. I'll be fine, once we get to the town."

"I insist, dearie."

For such a seemingly shy man, he was suddenly very insistent on this point, so Bella nodded, accepting the two shoes from his hands. "Thank you," she said gratefully, hoping that they fit, so she wouldn't have to cram her feet into them in order not to insult the man's generosity. "Would you mind holding him?" she asked, handing over the horse's reins, as she braced herself against the animal's large shoulder.

She had to hold back a grimace, as she unveiled her battered feet from underneath the muddied fabric. Swollen, and covered in filth, Bella felt the man's concerned scrutiny upon her, as she slipped on the shoe on her maimed foot. Remarkably, it was very nearly a perfect fit.

Bella tentatively placed her foot back on the ground, and found that it immediately felt better, nearly completely pain-free. The warm, and luxuriously soft liner—possibly some sort of rabbit or mink fur—made it feel as if she was walking on a cloud. "Thank you," she said again, repeating the procedure for her other foot.

All the while, the man quietly watched her with an odd concentration. "They fit you well?"

"Oh, yes," Bella agreed, taking back the reins. "They feel wonderful, thank you." She couldn't help but smile at him. His own matching smile was shy and charming. "I'll have to repay you for them. I fear that they'll be ruined, once I take my feet out of them."

"It's no matter," he murmured, waving her off.

"I insist," she grinned, using his earlier words against him. She looked behind her, giving her horse a tug on the reins to begin walking. Her new companion followed in step with her, leaning heavily on his walking stick. "Wait," she said, stopping, noticing his limp. "Are you hurt?"

The man froze in place, looking over in alarm at her. "What?"

"Your leg," she gestured. "Are you hurt?"

"Ah…no. It's nothing. A long-forgotten inconvenience, I assure you."

Bella frowned. It certainly didn't look like it wasn't bothering him, despite his assurances. "You said that it's a half-day's walk to the town?"

"Yes."

"Well, hmm," she muttered, looking back at the large, lazy stallion she was pulling along. "Would you mind holding him again, for a moment?" Before he could reply, she handed over the reins and climbed up into the saddle, jumping back on the saddle pad behind the cantle; the stud didn't flinch. "Hey, uh, wanna make a deal?"

"What?" he said, a little too sharply.

"A deal," she shrugged. "How about we ride there, instead? A free ride, for directions. It'll get us both there faster. That is, unless, you don't want to," she quickly added, seeing the alarm written plain on his face.

"You, ah, would have no objections?"

Bella jumped back into the saddle. "Not unless you do. I find it silly for both of us to walk that whole way, though, when we could ride, wouldn't you say? He seems safe enough. I'll ride in back. Here," she said, swinging back onto the ground, "you get on first."

Her new companion gave her another nervous smile, before handing over his stick and bag, and stepping into the saddle. Holding the horse steady, he looked down at her, still unsure.

"Are you all right with riding?"

"It's, ah, been quite some time since I've employed this mode of transportation," he smirked, seemingly amused with himself. "But yes, it's no problem."

Bella nodded, eyebrow raised, hoping that he was indeed speaking the truth as she handed him back his stick. With a quick prayer, hoping that this would work without too much awkwardness, she nudged his left foot out of the stirrup, and then grabbed onto the back of the saddle. She half-jumped, half-pulled her way onto the horse, swinging her leg onto the back, nearly colliding with the man as she did so. "Sorry." _So much for graceful._ Once in place, she secured her hold on either side of the saddle, trying to adjust herself to make it more comfortable. "Okay, I'm good."

With a light kick, the horse walked forward. It at least appeared that he hadn't been lying in that aspect of knowing how to ride.

"So, Bae, you promise that I'm not messing up your day? Because, really, if you have something else you need to do, you don't have to go with me to the town."

He shook his head, his wavy, light brown hair swishing in her face. "It's no matter. As you said, we have a deal. Now, I can't break a deal, can I?"

Bella giggled at his teasing tone, and over-dramatic, waving hand. "No, I suppose not." She smiled to herself, swaying side-to-side in step with the horses stride. "So what were you doing out here today, anyways?"

"I went for a walk. I had some things I needed to check on."

"Oh, so you're from around here?"

"In a matter of speaking."

"And, where is 'here' exactly? Where are we?"

He turned his head, quickly meeting her eyes. "The Dark Forest, dearie."

"Forgive me, but, where is that? Are we in Maine? Canada? I don't recognize these mountains."

"They call them the Dark Mountains."

"Right. To go with the Dark Forest," she chuckled, interrupting him.

Bae went quiet at that, and Bella cringed, thinking that she had insulted him.

"Sorry. You were saying."

"Avonlea is to the south of here, and then Regina's lands are to the west. You'd best find a safe route to avoid there."

"Wait—" she paused, her mind grasping for straws at the unfamiliar city names. "What state are we in?"

"State?"

"Yes, what state?" When he remained silent, her heart began to thud.

"There is no state from which these lands are governed."

 _What? "_ Okay… then, what country are we in?"

Her question was met with a quick, confused glance over his shoulder. "Country?"

The tinge of alarm that had been building in the back of her mind was now screaming in an all-out panic, and she was struck with a need to get away. No matter how sweet and well intentioned this man seemed, he was clearly not "all there." With her heart pounding in her chest, she tried to remain calm. "I mean, are we in Canada, or the US, or…?" she trailed off, hoping for another answer.

To her rising panic, her question was met with another long, uncomfortable silence, broken by the quiet plodding of the hooves beneath them.

"Bae, where are we?"

"The Dark Forest," he quickly replied back, stopping the horse and twisting around in his seat to face her, a deep frown furrowing his brow. "Where do you think you are?"

Bella's head went light and her stomach clenched with nausea. "I'm from Maine. Storybrooke, Maine. Have you heard of it?"

He shook his head in confusion, once again. "No." His eyes roamed her face. "Be—Isabella, are you all right?"

_Don't panic, don't panic. He seems like a nice man. If he was going to do anything he already would have. Murderers don't give you shoes or ask you if you're "all right."_

"Isabella?"

Bella snapped out of her thoughts, focusing back on his eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"I…um…" she stuttered, running though her options in her head. "You know, I know this is going to sound rather insane, but I think I'm going to head down that other way to Carrbridge after all."

"But Strathaven is—"

 _Quite possibly made up in your head?_ "Closer, I know. I just would be more comfortable knowing where I'm going, and after today…I'm sorry, really." She couldn't help but feel guilty for switching her mind so quickly, after offering him a ride to where he was going. However, if this man was truly as delusional as he sounded, she couldn't chance having him take her to some imaginary town, when there was another one that she knew for sure was just a day's ride away.

"It's no matter. As you wish," he quietly replied, reining the horse around, and giving it a kick forward.

"Wait—" Bella interjected, grabbing hold of his forearm. He immediately flinched at the touch. "You don't have to take me. I can go myself. You can just give me directions."

"We made a deal, dearie. I promised to get you to town safely, and I will do just that."

 _Great._ Bella huffed to herself, biting the inside of her lip. _How the hell I am I supposed to get out of this one?_

Bae slowed the horse to a stop once again. He lowered his head. "Do you not wish for me to escort you there?" he quietly asked. "Just say the word, and I will leave you be."

Guilt and instinct warred within her, pulling her in opposite directions. "No," she said, shocking herself as the words spilled out of her mouth, "I would be very grateful if you could take me there." Her companion gave her a long questioning look that nearly made her change her mind, but amazingly, she nodded back, finding a bit of courage she didn't know she had. "Really," she smiled, hating how her voice quivered.

He gave her a slow nod, obviously noticing her lack of confidence, but nonetheless, kicked the horse forward into a walk.

"You can, ah, go faster if you wish," she said over his shoulder. She smiled at his questioning look, and tried her best to appear confident. Really, she would endure any amount of discomfort in order to get to this town as quickly as possible. He immediately kicked the horse into gallop. "Oh, shit!" she yelped in surprise at the horse's quick leap forward, grabbing Bae's waist in order not to fall off the back.

He immediately flinched once again at her touch, and made a move to slow the horse.

"No, no," Bella called out, moving her hands back to the side of the saddle. "I'm fine," she lied, her arms and legs straining to hold on.

After an hour of riding, however, her legs and arms finally gave up, and Bella was forced to take a tentative hold around the man's waist. Despite his assurances to the contrary, she could tell that her touch was completely uncomfortable to him, even if she was only barely holding onto him.

All in all, it took them nearly three hours to reach the meadow, according to Bella's rough estimation of time, otherwise known as what she could tell from the sun's placement in the sky. She had never been so happy to see the outskirts of a town in her life.

"Carrbridge is right through those trees," Bae said, uttering his first words in hours, as he reined the horse to a stop.

Taking his words as a dismissal, Bella swung off, and landed hard on the ground, her legs wobbling slightly. "Thank you again for taking me," she said, genuinely, looking up at him.

Her words were rewarded with another one of his awkward half-smiles. He leaned forwarded onto the horse's neck, and slowly slid off, taking obvious care to mind his injured leg. Once off, he took the reins and handed them over to Bella. "It was my honor, m'lady."

"Thank you," she said again, accepting the reins.

"Will you be all right getting to the village?"

Bella could see the rooftops through the trees. "Yes, I think I'll be able to manage. And you? Will you be able to catch a cab home? I'd offer you the horse, but he's not mine. I do have—wait," she stopped, remembering and patting down her pockets. Her long-forgotten credit card and cash that she had withdrawn from the ATM the night before had been uncomfortably prodding her leg throughout the entire ride. She gave it all to him, nearly two hundred dollars in all, lest for forty that she kept for herself in case her card wouldn't be accepted in town. "Here. That should be enough for you to get a ride to wherever you want."

He tentatively took the bills from her, examining them curiously.

"Well, uh, thank you again," she said awkwardly, not quite knowing how to leave him. Or not _wanting_ to leave him, she corrected herself. Quickly stepping forward, before she lost her senses and asked him to come to the village with her, she gave him a quick hug goodbye. His body instantly stiffened at her gesture. She nearly chuckled at his continued bewilderment at her touch, but stopped herself. "Please know how much I appreciate your help today. Truly."

"Simply fulfilling my end of our deal, consider me sufficiently thanked."

"And you'll be all right finding a way home, right? I don't want to leave you out here if you can't make your way back."

"I'll manage, I assure you."

"Okay," she said, smiling in relief. "Well, if you ever happen to be in Storybrooke, Maine please look me up. I owe you dinner at least."

Bae gave her a tight smile, and then slightly bowed. "You owe me nothing," he muttered. "But first, before you go—" He removed his bag from his shoulders, and pulled out a brown, linen cloak, similar in style to the clothing he was wearing. "You should wear this."

"Oh, I can't. You've already given me your shoes. I can't take anything else from you."

Before she could protest more, he stepped forward, and wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. "For your protection," he explained.

She had nothing to say to that except "oh."

Bae looked directly at her, his eyes suddenly filed with a deep sadness that hadn't been there before. "I wish you a safe journey. Goodbye," he whispered, turning away.

Bella gawked, taken aback by his sudden change in emotion, but before she could reply, he shook his head, and looked back around at her. She held his gaze, suddenly concerned about him. "You'll be okay on your own, right?"

His eyes flicked away towards the ground, and he nodded, a sad, ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

"You're sure?"

"I'm so sorry," he said, the words coming out in a rush, before quickly turned away again.

"What?" she called out to his back, utterly confused, but he didn't turn back around. As she watched him walk back towards the woods, she was struck with the impulse to go after him, but quickly dismissed it. He had done enough to help her; she couldn't impose on him any more. Finally, turning away at last, she walked towards the village; however, she couldn't stop herself from looking back one more time. Much to her disappointment and fear, he was gone, vanished from sight.

With Bae gone, Bella's nerves threatened to overwhelm her, and she felt the immediacy of the need to find help. Her mount seemed to sense her mood and walked with vigor by her side, no longer the plodding animal he had been all afternoon.

It was only a short walk through the trees to the town, and once there, she stopped, her jaw dropping at the sight in front of her. _You've got to be joking me_. Carrbridge was apparently not a town at all; rather, it was some sort of medieval-looking Amish commune. All of the buildings and people looked like they had come from straight out of a _Game of Thrones_ TV set.

Why, oh why, had she insisted upon Bae taking her here? It seemed that she was doomed for failure today. _Well, hopefully, they'll be at least there's one phone in this town_ , she thought, trying to stay optimistic despite the contrary, as she stepped onto a muddied path to the village.

The town itself was bustling with activity. People, of every age, were going every which way; some carried large parcels, while others drove oxen-pulled carts, filled high with goods.

The smell hit her, before she came within stone's-throw of the first building, causing her to nearly wretch. Rank, putrid, and accented with burning smoke, Bella could barely inhale all of the smells that assaulted her senses.

A woman suddenly came around the corner of a building in front of her, coming face-to-face with Bella, and nearly colliding with her.

"Oh, sorry," Bella apologized, stepping back. "I need help. Could you tell me where the police station, or sheriff is, or if you know where I could call someone?"

The woman gasped in fright, and dropped the basket of clothes that she held in her hands and ran.

" _Seriously_?" Bella yelled after her. She looked down at herself, trying to determine what was so scary about her appearance. _Yes, I looked like a little bedraggled, but really it's just a pantsuit and a cloak._ The scholarly part of her brain took the moment to remind her that there could be some sort of societal rule about talking to outsiders, or maybe they didn't have any outsiders—Bae had mentioned that she needed the cloak for protection. If this was indeed some sort of commune trying to isolate themselves, then well, that could very well explain the lady's reaction. However, it would also mean that she was screwed.

Undeterred, Bella walked further into the village, horse in tow, passing by several thatched, one-story houses, eventually reaching a cobblestone road, which was crowded with people.

"Excuse me—" she called out to a passing man, who promptly ignored her. "Pardon me?" she asked another woman. "Excuse me, I need help," she tried once more. Every person she asked, and even ones she didn't, looked at her with a mixture of horror and distrust, averting their gaze, or scampering out of her way.

Unable to take it anymore, Bella spotted two young children playing in an alleyway, between two stone buildings. "Excuse me? Hi, there," she called out quietly, and as warmly as she could. She was met with the same frightened expression, but unlike the adults, they held their ground. "I need help. Could you tell me where I could find someone to help me?" she pleaded.

The older of the two, a boy no older than six, took a brave step towards her and pointed at a building directly behind her.

"In there? That building across the street?" she asked, pointing in confirmation.

Both children nodded.

"Thank you," she smiled back gratefully, as she turned away to cross the busy street.

She still wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do with the horse, or the heavy saddlebags that were filled with gold coins. Obviously, she couldn't leave either alone, but she was at a loss of where to hide either of them. The surrealism of the situation she was in was not lost on her, and she felt a need to both laugh and cry at the absurdity of her circumstances.

Her dilemma was solved when she spotted a "livery" sign, two buildings down, and watched people hand their horses over and exchange money. Figuring it to be some sort of place for them to "park" their horses, Bella led her obedient horse through the crowd and to the building.

A gruff-looking man met her, dressed in what could only be described as well, something straight out of the Middle Ages. Bella tried to plaster on her warmest smile as she approached him. Thankfully, unlike his compatriots, he met her gaze, although he seemed to share their unsavory opinion of her.

When he didn't say anything after a long moment, Bella coughed awkwardly, and tried smiling larger. "Hi. I, uh, need some help. Do you know where I can find the sheriff, or a phone?"

The man scoffed, and then turned to walk away, mumbling to himself as he did. Bella was only able to make out "crazy." _Well, he speaks English at least._

"Excuse me!" she called out louder, irritated by his abrupt dismissal. "I am looking for help. Can you help me?"

"Help a woman dressed as a man?" he cackled again, grabbing some shoeing tools off of the wall. "There's no helping a woman like that, that is unless you would like a man between your legs to remind you of your place?"

Bella gawked at his reply. Anger quickly replaced her shock. "Excuse me, but I can get a real _man_ for that, thank you very much. What I need now is for someone to take care of my horse, while I find someone else that will bother to help me, or do you not do that here?"

"I do. For a price."

"Name it, or else I'll find somewhere else to stable my horse."

He gave her a long glance, before sneering in distaste. "No."

" _No?"_

"You're not from these parts."

"No kidding. Now," she huffed, opening one of the saddlebags and extracting a gold coin. "I'll give you this to hold my horse for a short while. If you don't accept it, then you're even dumber than I thought."

Sure enough, his eyes lit up at the sight of the shiny coin, and he reached for it, but Bella snatched it back.

"My horse will be well-cared for and safe, correct?"

"Yes," he replied begrudgingly.

"Good. Now tell me where I can find someone to get some help."

"Two coins."

She shook her head. "This isn't a negotiation. Tell me where the police is, or who I can ask for help."

The man glared at her, but finally relented after she held his stare, her anger overriding any fear she felt from the imposing man.

"Man's called Hywel. You'll find him there," he said, gesturing to the building that the children had pointed to earlier.

"Thanks," she said, handing him over the reins and promised coin, but not before she removed the leather bags from the saddle, and placed the heavy satchels over her shoulder. She knew she looked ridiculous, but she couldn't leave this small fortune with this obvious rogue. "There will be two more for you when I return."

With her promise hopefully securing her horse's future, Bella turned and walked away. It wasn't until she was out of the man's sight that she noticed how clammy her hands had become. She quickly rubbed them on her pants, and fought back another bout of unease as she walked down the street.

The building, where this supposed "Hywel," resided in, turned out to be nothing more than a bar, from appearances. There was no sign, but the unmistakable smell of food and loud laughter waived from the door, which seemed to be bustling with customers, constantly going in and out.

Bella hung back for a moment, taking stock in the situation, before she entered the building. All at once, conversation within view of her ceased. It seemed that every pair of eyes in the room were staring at her. _So much for being inconspicuous._

"I'm looking for Hywel?" she called out. "Or a phone or sheriff? I need help."

Her questions were met with silence, albeit for one, lone, brave finger of a man in front that pointed towards the front of the dark packed room.

Bella nodded, pulling her bags closer to her. She took a step forward, causing the people around her to instantly stand aside, and clear a path towards the front of the room. She didn't know who she was looking for, though she helped that this mysterious mystery man would at least speak to her.

One by one, the people stepped back, revealing the room in layers. What was clear was that this was indeed a bar, and an old one at that. Worn oil paintings of busts hung on the wood walls, and iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling, lit with actual candles.

Finally, all that remained was a bar itself, with glass bottles stacked high on the wall behind it, and a man, who was quite possibly the largest person Bella had ever seen.

"Mr. Hywel?" she asked, trying to appear somewhat confident.

The man, standing over six and half feet tall and very nearly six feet around, leaned over the bar towards her. "That's me."

She swallowed, steeling her courage, and tried to ignore the long scar down the side of his face. "I was told that you would be able to help me, or at least tell me where to go to get some help. I was—"

"Who told you this?" he gruffly interrupted her.

"What?"

"Who. Told. You. This?"

"The blacksmith; horse-trader guy. I'm not sure what his name was," she rambled flustered. "The man two buildings up with the livery sign."

"You've been misinformed, then. We don't accept outsiders into our town, no matter how much you try to disguise yourself as a man."

"Excuse me? Disguise myself as a—" she stopped, shaking her head in bewilderment. "Mr. Hywel, all I want is some help. I was kidnapped from my home, and brought here. So, if you could just let me call someone, or if you could tell me where to find the nearest police station, I would be very grateful." Bella ended her plea with her jaw set and hip cocked out. She didn't know what had possessed her, but she wasn't leaving this room without _someone_ letting her know how to get home.

Hywel matched her steely glare. "I think you need to go."

"Did you not hear me? I was kidnapped. _Kidnapped_. And taken to some castle nearby, which if I was you, I might be a little concerned about, considering that it only took me half a day to get from there to here. Now if you're going to just stand there and tell me to leave, because I happen not to be from there, then I…I don't know what to say, except…you're an asshole. So, yeah."

It seemed the room had gone deathly silent, listening to her loud rant. Hywel himself had gone from annoyed to suddenly interested, looking at her intensely. "You said that you were at the Dark Castle? Held there?"

"Yes. If that's what it's called. It was huge and, god, can't you just _help me_? Can't any of you help me?" she asked, turning around the room, looking at all of the wide eyes, keeping their distance away from her.

"And you escaped?"

"Yes. That's what I've been trying to tell you. That's why I need help! I need to get home, and I need to talk to the police. So please, help me!"

Hywel narrowed his eyes, and then flicked his gaze to the back of the room. A slight nod of his head earned a reciprocal gesture from a man standing along the wall. The man, tall and muscular, came forward and stood by the bar.

"Take her to him."

"Him? Who's him?"

Before she could react, Hywel's accomplice came forward and took a strong grip on her forearm.

"Let go of me!" She swung around, trying to hit him, but missed, hitting nothing but air. "Let. Me. Go!" she growled, but the man's grip was like steel, as he dragged her towards a door in the corner of the room, ripping off her cloak in the process.

A second man appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her other arm.

Bella tried to lift herself up, and kick her new captor in the groin, but like before, the blow was easily dodged. "Where are you taking me?" she yelled louder. "Let go of me. Somebody," she screamed, wheeling her head back around at the crowd, "help me!"

Her cries fell on deaf ears as the men opened the door shoving her though. In the process, the heavy saddlebags slid off her shoulder and onto the second man's arm.

The man threw the bag off him and into the dirt in distaste. Gold coins immediately spilled from both of the bags.

"She's a thief, too!" the man chuckled, immediately going for the coins.

"Stop, you fool!" the first man hissed. "She must have stole it from him. Touch it and you're dead."

"I didn't steal it from anyone," Bella growled back, kicking the man as hard as she could in the shin. He immediately flinched, and crouched, allowing Bella to kick him directly in the crotch.

"Bitch!"

Bella wrenched away with all of her might from his firm grasp, but unlike the man who kidnapped her, this man didn't loosen his grip at all. Instead, he jumped back up, and slapped her hard, sending a shooting pain through her skull, and bright, white dots crossing her vision. A second hand seized her arm, immobilizing her arms once again. She turned and spit in the first man's eyes.

The man growled, digging his hands harder into her arm. "You're lucky that I know that you're only going to get worse with him, otherwise, I'd kill you myself, whore."

"I am _not_ a whore. And once I get out of this backwards town, I'm going make sure that _all_ of you get locked up and you don't get out of jail for a long time. Huh? How about that?"

Both men ignored her, and before she could stop them, they lifted her up, so her toes were barely touching the ground.

"Let me go," she protested again, twisting and turning in their grip. She wasn't about to be taken anywhere, not after she had come so far. "Help!" she screamed with all of her might. "Help me! Help!"

"Gag her."

"With what?"

"Anything!" the man spat. "Just shut her up."

The dark-haired man leered, lingering on her chest. Before she could stop him, his accomplice pulled both of her arms behind her, allowing him to tear her blouse open and cut off a long piece off the front with a knife, which was sheathed on his hip. With a deftness that she was unable to dodge, he roughly grabbed her hair, and forced the soft fabric into her mouth, and pulled it back, securing it behind her head in a tight knot that made it unable for her to close her jaw, let alone talk.

Bella didn't let that stop her, continuing to scream and moan through the gag.

"You just don't learn do you?"

This time Bella saw the hit coming and braced herself for another hard blow, which sent her to flying to the ground. Her head lolled and she had to fight against the rising blackness, as she was yanked upwards.

"Now, let's take you—"

Suddenly, the grip on her arm vanished and she fell to the ground unawares, causing her to land hard on her side and hit her head on the rock-hard ground. Her vision went blurry and started spinning, as she heard a loud scream of "no!" behind her, followed by silence.

Two more voices conversed behind her, in a mumbled argument, but as much as she tried, she couldn't lift her head off of the ground to hear them or get away.

"No! Please! Ahhh—"

Bella cringed, recognizing the brown-haired man's terrified scream and then subsequent silence. _Oh no_ , she cried, pushing herself up off of the ground. However, as soon as she stood, her vision went black and she fell back down to the ground. However, she didn't fall.

Two strong arms cradled her, with one around her back and one under her knees, holding her midair. Slowly, she was lowered back to the ground, and she felt a heavy fabric cover her exposed front.

"Hel…help," she groaned, the words coming out muffled through the gag.

A soft hand cradled her face in response, lifting her head off of the ground, and untied her gag, removing it from her mouth.

Bella swallowed, tasting blood, and blinked to try and clear her vision, but all she saw was a purple haze surrounding her. Finally, the haze cleared, revealing the man who saved her. A long moment passed before she could even speak, torn between confusion, shock, and terror. "You?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I just wanted to give a huge thank you to my wonderful beta, Luthien, for all of her help and for making this chapter so much better thanks to her suggestions. Also, sorry for the long wait. Real life has been pretty hectic lately :) Hope you enjoy it!

Roses.

Sweet, fragrant, and smelling of newly cut blooms from her garden.

Bella smiled to herself and turned towards the familiar fragrance, freezing immediately at the sensation of a blanket shifting around her.

_What?_

She curled her finger, feeling the unmistakable sensation of smooth satin slide against her hand. _Oh no_.

Bella opened her eyes slowly, and felt her heart stop at once. The dark stonewalls, high-arched stained-glass windows, and medieval tapestries covering the walls—it was exactly how she had remembered. Her little sliver of hope that everything she had only been a dream was instantly squashed at the sight of the castle's bedroom. _I'm back…he took me back._ She gasped, slamming her eyes shut, hoping that wherever he was, he hadn't seen her wake.

Her chin began to tremble at the thought of her strange abductor watching her from some hidden place in the room, and hot, stinging tears formed quickly behind her eyelids. She tried to stop them, but they quickly overflowed and trailed down her face, marking a horizontal path down to the pillow. _His_ pillow.

A wooden chair squeaked behind her and Bella froze, holding her breath as she listened to the unmistakable sound of someone shifting forward in a chair.

_No. No, no, no, no._

"Belle?" a quiet voice— _his_ voice—whispered behind her.

More tears spilt down Bella's cheeks as she ignored his quiet question. _Go away. Please go away_ , she begged in vain, too scared to voice her plea aloud.

The man didn't go away, though. Bella could hear him quietly breathing and fidgeting on the other side of the bed, keeping vigil.

As the minutes slowly passed by, it became clear that he wasn't going anywhere, so Bella decided that the only option was to wait him out. It also allowed her time to clear her foggy recollection of what had happened in the village and to plan what she should do next.

Memories of the men, her assault, and most importantly, her abductor saving her, came flooding back.

He had killed those men. Bella was sure of it; not that she begrudged him doing so, but still the fact that he had stuck down those strong men so easily terrified her. Those men were huge, and he had killed them in seconds. Clearly, her original impression that she had disarmed him so easily was a lie.

But then, if that was the case, why had he let her go? Why tease her with the thought of her freedom, if he was only planning on bringing her back again? What sort of sick game was he playing? _And, most importantly, why me?_

_This…this shouldn't be happening_ , Bella thought. Things like this happened in movies, not in reality, and especially not to people like her. She had never even left Storybrooke for godsakes, and for some psycho to find her, pick her of all people to take her to his castle who knows where...?

A quiet sob escaped her throat at the feeling of helplessness that descended upon her.

"Belle?"

Bella's breath caught in her throat and she froze once again. She cursed herself for her mistake as she heard him walk around to her side of the bed. His footsteps were so light that it took all of her power to sense where he was, and even then, she wasn't sure where he had gone.

"Belle...? Belle, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice nearly cracking on the last word.

She flinched at the sensation of him being so close, feeling him bump against the side of the bed, but kept her eyes closed.

"Please forgive me."

The sound of fabric, or of something similar being deposited, sounded to her near right, and then the room went silent. Bella strained to listen for his breath, or movement, but all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

She tried to wait it out, not knowing if his strange display of emotion was merely a trap, or if he was really gone, but the unnerving silence finally became too much to bear and she opened her eyes.

It seemed that he had indeed left. Nevertheless, Bella kept her body coiled, ready to run at a moment's notice, as she pushed herself slowly up and looked around, realizing at once that he had taken her to a different room.

The last bedroom he had taken her to had been a small, dark, and confining space; this one, however, was immense and full of light streaming in from the windows. Unlike the previous one, this room was clearly dressed with a woman's touch, with light pink and rose hues adorning all of the drapes, cushions and bedding. It was also much larger, nearly triple the space of the other bedroom, with a complete sitting area and massive bookshelf, stacked high with books, that covered the entire wall opposite of the paned windows, which were decorated with ornate rose motifs edged in gold.

The warm light streaming into the room caught the gold's reflection, causing the beams of light to transform into distinct, glittering rays amongst the thin sheen of dust that hung in the air. It was beautiful. And it was also morning.

That jarring realization brought Belle immediately out of her temporary stupor. _Morning?_ She swung her legs out of the bed, all thought regarding the confusing time of day disappearing at the sight of herself.

The silk she had felt hadn't been the bed sheet, as she had assumed. Rather, it had been the full-length sleeping gown that she was now wearing. Her clothes, freshly pressed and folded, were placed on the nightstand beside her, along with a vase filled with several dozen red roses. Even more alarming was that all of the cuts, bruises, and general aches from her escape were gone. Completely vanished as if they had never occurred at all.

_Impossible._

She brought her left foot up across her knee for closer inspection. She had been nearly completely lame on it yesterday from all of the deep rock cuts. However, now she couldn't see a single blemish. It was completely healed. Even the old scars and calluses that she had earned from her daily, long morning runs were gone. _How…?_

Putting her foot back down, she stood up, shaking slightly as she picked up her shirt from the nightstand—the same shirt that had been torn off her by the men from the bar. Like her feet, it looked brand new and fully restored. Underneath it were her pants and jacket. She rubbed the fabric between her trembling fingers, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for what she was seeing, but she couldn't. None of this should be possible, yet here she was, completely restored, even improved upon. _Maybe this really is a dream..._

A creak outside the closed door sent a sharp sliver of fear through her, squashing her foolish hope. _No, this definitely isn't a dream._

She decided at once to get properly dressed, and disrobed quickly. The cool air only made her shake more, and she fumbled trying to unbutton her shirt's buttons. She finally gave up and sat down as she pulled her pants on, her adrenaline and fear making the simple act of dressing a nearly impossible task. Thankfully though, she managed to finally get redressed, sans her original shoes which were apparently long lost, not that she cared. However, he had left her the shoes that Bae had given her on the road and she slipped them on.

Now properly clothed, Bella tiptoed to the door and tested the handle. It was unlocked. _Maybe it's a trick_ , she thought, pulling her hand back from the handle. She walked over to the large, paned windows, and saw that this room was several stories higher than the last one she had escaped from. She couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle at the utterly absurd thought. _Yes, the_ last _time that I escaped from the castle._

A light knock sounded on the door, causing her to spin around and her breath to catch in her throat, stifling her scream. She looked frantically side-to-side for an exit, or a weapon of some kind, but before she could move, the door creaked slowly inward and he stepped inside.

The loud thumping of her heart drowned out all other sound as Bella stood stock still, staring back at him. He was as she had remembered him, but now in the full light of day, and standing only a few feet away from her, she was finally able to see him clearly for the first time—his glittery gold skin, the strange, reptilian contacts in his eyes, and his bizarre outfit, comprised of a billowy, rust silk shirt, tight leather pants, and tall, thigh-high laced boots.

To her puzzlement, her abductor seemed as scared of her as she was of him, and stood frozen in place, staring back at her, wide-eyed in shock. "Belle…"

The false name caused her to jerk back, making it fell as if she was dowsed with ice water, and tearing her from her foolish examination of him. As much as she wanted to run, her fear kept her rooted in place. She could only manage to hold out her shaking hand in a weak attempt to hold him at bay.

"I'm not going to hurt you….Please, Belle…" he said quietly, taking a step closer to her.

"Don't!" she croaked, now visibly shaking head to toe. The man froze instantly mid-stride and looked as if she had slapped him. "Just…stay right there," she pleaded.

To his credit, he simply nodded back, and didn't move. For some strange reason, one that she couldn't begin to explain, she had an odd sense that he was being truthful in saying that wasn't going to hurt her, or at least, not yet.

"What do you want with me?" she asked, finally conquering her thick tongue that had been preventing her from speaking.

"Belle, please, let me explain—"

"My name's not Belle."

"But—"

"My name's. Not. Belle," she repeated. "My name is Isabella. Isabella French."

Her firm reminder caused the man to swallow hard in reflex, his eyes darting around until they finally settled on her face, searching for something, looking so intensely upon her that Bella had to look away, uncomfortable with his strange, unblinking eyes. "Belle, it's me," he said again, pointing to himself, the soft words sounding strange with his peculiar voice. "It's Rumpelstiltskin. Don't you remember me?"

_Rumple…what?_ "No," she said, shaking her head adamantly. "No, I don't know you."

"Do you remember this?" he asked earnestly, gesturing about the room. " _Any_ of this? Your room? The castle?"

Bella's fear began to dissipate at his pained expression, and confusion over his emphatic behavior began to take root in its place. "You brought me here before."

"Yes." His face and voice brightened immensely at her answer. "The Dark Castle—you remember it?"

She nodded. As if she could forget it.

The corner of his lips tugged, forming a half-smile. His excited energy made the room seem to vibrate, making Bella all the more nervous, knowing that his disappointment was imminent, not that she would say anything more than asked, especially after seeing his wrath first hand.

"What else? What else do you remember?"

Belle hesitated for a moment, unnerved by his intense stare. "About what?"

His hands fluttered, and he shook his head. "About anything. Everything you remember."

Bella braced herself, and bit her lip, weighing her options about what to say. In the end, she settled with the truth, not knowing which lie would anger him more. "I remember going home, and then waking up here in a different room. You let me go and I met a man on the road, who directed me to a village a small ways from here. The people told me to find a man named Hywel, and then…well, I suppose you know the rest."

"But before that, before you woke up, what do you remember?"

"About my life?"

"Yes, yes, how far back can you remember?"

"Until I was a small child?" she said, shrugging, not understanding what he wanted her to say. That didn't seem to be the right answer though, judging by his expression, so she quickly continued. "Sir, you seem like a nice man, and I don't know why you chose me, or why you brought me here, but if you just let me go, I promise that I won't do anything. I won't call the police. I won't press charges—we'll just chalk this up to a big misunderstanding, okay?" she smiled, forcing her tone to be bright. "Because, I don't think I am who you think I am."

"Hold out your arm."

Bella flinched, and shifting her weight back on her heels. "What?"

"Hold out your right arm," he repeated softly, motioning to his own. "Please."

Bella complied, warily pulling up her own shirt to show him her right arm.

"The scar on your arm there," he said, pointing to the long, silvery mark along the inside of her forearm. "You got that here. You cut yourself on a shelf in the library, and refused to let me heal it."

"No, I got this a long time ago, back when I was in high school. I cut myself on some glass, and had to get ten stitches. I remember going to the hospital to get it fixed."

He shook his head. "Your leg."

"What about it?"

"You have a burn mark right here," he said, gesturing to the back of his calf.

"I know," she said. "It's from a camping accident. I stumbled and fell into a campfire. I have burn scars all over my backside from it." She paused, watching his expression change more times than humanly possible as his eyes darted all over her face. "Really, I'm sorry, but I know that I'm not who you think I am. I've never met you before in my life." She didn't know what else to say. It wasn't as if he was someone a person could forget easily. He had to realize that...right?

He frowned, his eyes resuming their frantic movement as he looked away, becoming lost in thought again, while his fingers fluttered at his side. Suddenly, he froze and he looked up, directly at her. "A curse," he whispered. "You're cursed."

"Yeah, no kidding," Bella scoffed back in exasperation. Three abductions in one day? If that wasn't the universe cursing her, then she didn't know what it was.

He looked back at her in shock. "You know you're cursed?"

"Well, I'd prefer not to think of it that way, but at this rate—yeah, I'd say that I'm cursed."

"Who did this to you?" he asked furiously, walking towards her. "Tell me!"

"What?" Bella felt suddenly afraid, immediately regretting her attempt at levity as she shrunk away from the sudden ferocity in his gaze. It was as if this strange man really thought that someone had actually cursed her.

"Who cursed you?"

"No one cursed me."

"But, you said that you knew you were cursed."

"Only in the sense that the universe has decided to curse me, not an actual person," she said, shrugging apologetically.

He tilted his head sharply, nearly birdlike, as he continued his intense scrutiny of her.

"I'm not cursed," she repeated.

An awkward silence descended upon them, when he didn't say anything in return. He continued to simply stare at her.

Bella's heartbeat thudded in her ears, the loud, steady beat only amplifying her anxiety. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "What do want from me?" she blurted out.

"Nothing," he whispered back without hesitation. Once again, a look of profound sadness crossed his face, and he averted his eyes, shaking his head. "Nothing at all."

"Then, why did you bring me here?"

"To save you."

"Save me?"

He nodded earnestly, even though his sad expression never left his face.

Belle's eyes burned, threatening to tear up again. "From what?"

"Death."

" _What?"_

"They…they killed you."

"They what—" She stopped, thrown by his insane words. "No. No one killed me. I'm fine, see?" she said, trying to force a smile, despite her increasing anxiety about the man's highly questionable mental state. "I'm alive."

"Because I brought you back," he said matter-of-factly.

Bella tried to smile again, but this time, her false cheer faltered and the burning tears that she had kept at bay for so long spilt down her cheeks. She shook her head, and shrugged helplessly. "I don't understand."

"You needn't concern yourself. All that matters is that you are safe here, now."

No other words could have made Bella feel any less safe than those. A wave of sheer panic rushed through her. He was going to keep her here. She knew it, and was at a loss of what to say, or of what she could say to persuade him otherwise. Finally, after another long silence, she settled on the simplest question. "Are you going to let me go home?"

"Home?"

"Yes, back home. Where you took me from."

He giggled, a shrill, unnerving sound. "No, no, you most certainly don't want to go back there."

Bella's heart sank. "No, I really do," she said, pleading. "Just let me go."

"It's not safe, dearie," he said, a dark look forming on his features as she stepped forward, completely blocking her pathway to the door.

"I promise it is. There's nothing that can hurt me there. I'll even let you take me back there, and I'll show you."

He shook his head. "You'd be surprised. And I can't save you again, certainly not from that," he said, giggling shrilly again. "You'll understand in time, once you remember."

"But, I _do_ remember. I remember everything! My name is Isabella French. I live at 34 Mockingbird Lane, in Storybrooke, Maine. My birthday is April 1st, and I've lived in the same town my whole life. I'm a lawyer, and have my own practice in town. See? I remember," she said, her lips quivering into a smile. "And if you just take me back home, I promise that I won't do or say anything—you have my word. I just want to go home. _Please_."

His fingers tented, fluttering. "I can't let you. You won't be safe."

"But I _will_. I swear that there is nothing that will hurt me there. I'll prove it to you. Just let me go back. Please, take me back."

He held her gaze, unblinking as he stared back at her, unmoving.

"Please," she said, her voice trailing off to a trembling whisper, threatening to break into a full-bodied sob, as she felt fresh tears slide down her cheeks. "I just want to go home."

For a moment, Bella thought that the man who called himself "Rumpelstiltskin" was about to tear up himself, but he quickly composed himself and nodded. "Very well," he said after a long moment.

"Thank—" A thick, purple haze engulfed Bella, cutting her off reply, and filled her mouth with a strange, bitter taste. She waved her arms, coughing, trying to fend off the offending smoke, but it disappeared within seconds, leaving her dumbstruck at the sight before her. _What the hell is that?_

Bella whipped around, colliding with a firm body, and jumped back, finding herself face-to-face with her captor who was now clad head-to-toe in a completely different outfit, most notably featuring an elaborate, brown alligator skinned jacket that fell to his mid-thigh. "What…what's going on? What happened? Where did you take me?"

"Home," he said flatly, giving her a slight bow as he gestured to the huge, white castle behind them, located on top of the tall bluff above the vast marshland they were standing in.

"That's a…that's a castle!"

"Avonlea. Your home."

"Home…?" Bella's breath came quickly, and she felt light-headed. "How…wha…we were just in a room," she said, gesturing with her hands, reaching for something tangible, "and now we're here…at another castle. Did you just… _teleport_ us here?"

"Teleport?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging helplessly, not knowing what else to call it. "What was that purple cloud? Did you drug me?"

"No. Never."

"Then, what was that? How did we get here?"

"Magic."

" _Magic?"_

He nodded.

"You brought us here with…magic?"

"Yes."

"Like…abracadabra 'poof' magic?"

"Is there another kind?" he smirked, giggling to himself.

"Uh, the _fake_ kind? Magic isn't real. You couldn't have…no. This isn't happening. You didn't…no," she said, shaking her head to forcibly clear it.

"What? What's wrong?"

Bella gawked. "What's wrong? What's wrong is that you kidnapped me and now you've taken me to another castle! That's what's wrong!"

"I took you home."

"No, you didn't. This isn't my home. This isn't even close to being my home!

"That is your home. Your father is Lord of that castle there—"

"Stop! My father is a florist! He does _not_ live in a castle!" she yelled, pointing back to the castle above. "I just want to go home, please. Just take me back." She stopped, gasping for air as she tried to catch her breath. "Please…I'm not the person you think I am. I'm just a small town lawyer," she said, feeling suddenly exhausted, and her fight draining quickly out of her. "That's all. Please…I just want to go home."

The man stared at her, his strange irises gleaming in the sunlight, looking at her with complete tenderness. _They're real_ , she realized to herself, as she took in his appearance again. _It's not a costume. The gleaming skin, the reptilian eyes, the rotted teeth…it's him. It's real._ She closed her eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the wet dew of the marsh grass around her begin to dampen her clothes. "This is real, isn't it? All of this...the castle...you...?"

He nodded. "Yes. Indeed, it is."

"And you brought me here?"

He at least had the decency to look ashamed, and averted his eyes downward, before slowly nodding once again.

"Why?"

His eyes shot upwards, finding hers. "What?"

"Why did you bring me here? What do you want with me? I don't understand...why me? Who do you think I am?"

Her barrage of questions rendered him speechless for a moment, his jaw moving in an obvious effort to find his words. "I needed to save you."

"From _what_? I was fine."

"You died."

"Obviously not," Bella said, pointing to herself.

"Belle—"

"No. My name's not Belle—it's Isabella, and…" She sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, but I've never met you, never even _seen_ you in my entire life, and I've most certainly never died. I just want to go back home. Can you take me there? The place where you took me from? Storybrooke? _That's_ my home. If you could just take me there—"

"I can't."

Bella flinched back in shock. "What?"

"I used the last bit of that magic to bring you back. It's gone now—destroyed."

"What do you mean, you brought me here with magic?"

"I used a portal to bring you here."

"A portal?"

He nodded.

"As in a 'through time and space' time-traveling portal?"

"Something similar, yes."

Bella laughed nervously and took a step back. "That's insane."

"Interesting choice of words." He smirked back. "But I assure you it's not insane—it's very real."

"In movies! Not in real life."

"This is real life, dearie," he said, clearly becoming as exasperated as she was.

"Magic isn't real."

With a simple flick of his wrist, a long-stemmed red rose appeared amidst a slight poof of purple smoke. "It most certainly is," he murmured, extending the flower towards her.

Bella's jaw dropped in shock at the rose. She reached forward and touched the tip of the petal tentatively with her fingertip, just to confirm it was real, and then looked back up at him. "Who _are_ you?"

"Rumpelstiltskin."

"Rumpelstiltskin?"

His face brightened for a brief flicker, before composing himself. "Yes."

Bella, though, couldn't help but keep staring at the rose, still extended towards her. "Do that again."

"What?"

She titled her head towards his hand. "Can you do that again?"

His hand flicked again, and another poof of magenta-tinted purple smoke revealed a full-length, sable fur coat, with a gold clasp. "If you'll have it," he said, holding it out towards her with an unabashedly hopeful expression.

There was no way that he could have done that with a simple slight of hand, Bella thought, staring at the large floor-length coat, still not quite believing what she had just seen with her own eyes. He made another gesture for her to take it, and she closed her gaped mouth and took the coat, along with the rose. They were both very much real…and warm. In fact, Bella hadn't realized how cold she was until she felt the heavy warmth of it on her arms.

Rumpelstiltskin made a gesture for her to put it fully on, over her shoulders, and she complied, feeling immediately grateful for doing so.

"How did you do that?"

He grinned, flicking his pointer finger upwards. "Magic."

"You really can do magic…real magic?"

"I can."

"Are you some sort of wizard, or something?" she asked, feeling ridiculous asking such a question. However, she was at a loss of what else to call him.

"I am called many things, but for you, I prefer Rumpelstiltskin."

"And you brought me here…to this place…with magic?"

"Yes."

Bella nodded, trying to weed her way through her murky logic. "So…could you send me back with magic?"

"No."

"But, you said that there was a magic portal—"

"There was, until I destroyed it while using it to find you."

"Why would you destroy it?"

"Because it was the only way to save you."

"But, why do you want to save _me_?" That was the question she didn't understand above all others—why her? What could he possibly want with her? What did this…wizard want with her?

The thundering sound of hooves and men's cries in the near distance silenced his reply, and they both spun towards the noise.

Bella gasped at the sight of full-armored black knights breaking through the nearby tree line, not even a quarter mile away, and galloping towards them at full speed. With nowhere to hide, except for the tall marsh grass surrounding them, she fell to the ground and flattened herself amongst the thick reeds.

Rumpelstiltskin, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, and remained standing, facing them calmly.

"What are you doing? Get down!" Bella hissed. "They'll see us."

"That is the general idea, dearie."

Bella crept over on her hands and knees, and grabbed his leather coattails, giving them a sharp tug. "Get. Down!" Despite her pulling his clothing with all of her might, he didn't budge. "Please."

"You have nothing to fear."

"Those are knights!"

"Indeed, they are," he replied gleefully.

Bella peeked over the reeds to count them; there were more than twenty and they were clearly not out for an afternoon ride, with their broadswords unsheathed and pointed in their direction. "What are they doing?"

"Coming to kill us, most likely."

" _What?"_

He grinned, scrunching his nose and letting out an excited giggle. "Don't worry. They're in for a bit of a surprise once they see whom they've run down."

The hooves grew louder, and Bella shook with fright, feeling as if they were nearly on top of them.

"Rumpelstiltskin, please," she begged, not knowing what she was asking for, other than not to be in the path of knights, especially after her encounter in the village. After all this, she wasn't about to be killed by some errant knights just because his strange man had a death wish.

For a moment, she thought that he had ignored her plea, but then she felt him kneel down beside her. She snuck a glance in his direction; quickly blinking away the stinging tears blurring her vision. His strange golden eyes were wide with concern, as he looked deeply into her eyes, finally giving her a slight nod.

A second later, purple smoke engulfed them once again, and Bella found herself lying on a hard, carpeted floor. She blinked, feeling out of sorts again after being taken somewhere else like _that_ again. Before she could fully sit up, a golden-flecked hand appeared before her, palm open and extended to assist her.

Without thinking, Bella took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He released his grip immediately, jerking back as if she had burned him.

She looked around; they were standing in a grand, elaborately decorated dining room, albeit one that was curiously devoid of any actual dining room chairs, except for one at the head of the long table. Much like the rest of the castle, or as much as Bella could remember from her hurried recollections of running though it, the room was full of artifacts, paintings, and elaborate tapestries on the walls. It looked like a movie set, rather than an actual room, and it captivated her, leaving her speechless and unable to stop staring.

A light cough, to her right, jarred her out of her study, and Bella turned to face the man who had brought her back, once again, to this place.

"Are you all right?"

"Uh…" She looked down to examine herself. Aside from some mud stains, covering the entire front of her suit, she was fine. "Yes. Thank you."

He waved off her thanks with an awkward wave, and walked over to the table.

Bella followed cautiously behind, stopping a few feet away from him. "Those were real knights?"

"Her Majesty's finest," he said, snickering with a dark look upon his face.

"And they would've killed us?"

A shrill giggle escaped his lips. "More like, died trying."

Bella bit her lip, remembering how he had killed the men at the pub. Nervousness that had been gone came rushing back, and she took another step back away from him while she looked over to the large double doors to her right.

"You needn't worry yourself," he said quickly, his voice lowering to a more normal tone again, as if sensing her distress. "You're not in any danger here. You're safe."

"You're not going to hurt me?"

"I would never," he declared, shaking his head vigorously.

_Why?_ But she kept the question to herself, torn between wanting to know and yet, not wanting to remind him that there was no reason for him not to. He looked sincere enough, his wide eyes seemingly begging her to believe him, so she nodded in reply, sensing that he needed confirmation that she believed him. He relaxed at once.

Not knowing what to say, or how to phrase what she wanted to truly ask, she settled finally on something safe and easy, instead. "Is this your home?"

"It is, indeed."

She swallowed, nodding. "It's very beautiful."

A hint of the beginnings of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he looked down, clearly uncomfortable with any sort of compliment. The realization that this strange magic man was shy left Bella feeling just a tinge more relaxed in his presence.

He said nothing more, shifting awkwardly on his feet, his gaze darting between her face and the floor.

Bella began to feel awkward as well, as the silence dragged on, becoming nearly stifling, so she redirected her gaze over towards the artifacts scattered along the sides of the room. The afternoon sun illuminated the objects nearest to the large windows. One object in particular caught her eye, just from the bright sheen of it—a straw basket, near the huge wooden spinning wheel in the corner that gleamed as if it was filled with liquid gold.

_Gold._

She looked over at the man—Rumpelstiltskin—standing a few steps away from her. Her mind whirled. _No, it couldn't possibly be._

He ducked his head away from her scrutiny, and Bella turned back towards the wheel, her curiosity getting the best of her, and walked over towards the shining contents in the basket. She could hear his light footsteps behind her, following her, but she was more intrigued with the basket, and its implications.

She knelt down by it, and picked up a strand of the golden thread, pinching it between her fingers. It was pure gold. Soft and malleable, yet as solid and strong as any strand of the metal that she had ever touched, she followed the strand upwards until it reached the point of the spindle where one side was straw—and the other was pure gold.

Wide-eyed, she spun around and stood up, finding him looking at her intensely with the same searching expression as before. "You're Rumpelstiltskin."

He blinked in confusion. "I am."

" _The_ Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Is there another that I'm not aware of?" he asked airily, cocking his head to the side.

Bella gestured towards the basket. "No, like _the actual_ Rumpelstiltskin—the one who taught the miller's daughter how to spin straw into gold for the king in exchange for her firstborn?"

His eyes widened slightly, and his brow creased into a deep frown. "Now, who told you that?" he asked slowly.

"No one. It's in the story—the fairytale," Bella explained quickly, becoming alarmed by the sudden intensity in his quiet voice. "Everyone knows it. Except in the story, he didn't give her his name. She had to guess it, and she had three tries. On the last night, before her last guess, she went out to the woods and heard him singing his name, and then she told it to him the next day. He was so angry that he stomped his foot and killed himself—or something like that. But, that gold..." she said, pointing to the basket. "You're him, aren't you? You're Rumpelstiltskin?"

"No one knows about that deal. No one except me, and a woman who is long lost for this world."

"But—" Bella stopped herself, not quite sure if she had just heard him correctly. "Wait—it's true, then?" she asked, shocked that he hadn't denied her story. In fact, he seemed threatened that she knew it.

"Part of it—not all. As you can see, I'm certainly not dead."

"And not a troll," she added with a nervous smile, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this man standing before her was Rumpelstiltskin. _The_ Rumpelstiltskin.

"What?"

"The story always made it seem as if he, or well, I guess you, were a gross, little troll man—not anything like how you really are, certainly not a wizard, or whatever you call yourself."

"The Dark One, to some," he said, tilting his head. "Although, dearie, your tale doesn't sound too far off." He smirked, making a pointed sweeping gesture at himself.

"No, you're fine! Certainly, not anything like that," she said quickly, shocking herself at being offended for his sake. Yes, he was rather, well…odd looking, but he was far from horrific. He stared back at her, with those strange reptilian eyes. _They were just so..._

"Something you wish to ask?"

Bella blinked and looked away, feeling her cheeks redden in embarrassment for being caught staring at him _. Shit._ Now, he was really staring at her, tilting his head expectantly. She grimaced, not wanting to ask, but still plowed ahead. "Are…forgive me, but that is you, right?" she asked, wincing at her lack of tact. "You're not wearing makeup, or contacts, or anything?"

He snickered, fluttering his hand in a mocking display. "What? Never seen a monster before, dearie?"

"You're not a monster! I'm sorry, that wasn't—that was horrible of me to ask. It's just…where I'm from…there's no one quite like you—not that that's a bad thing at all," she added quickly, forcing a smile.

He waved her off. "No need to patronize me, dearie. I'm well aware of what I look like, though I wonder…how is it that you've heard so much about me, yet haven't heard what the Dark One looks like?"

"Because, I…" _Dark One?_ "Wait, I thought you were Rumpelstiltskin?"

"I am."

"But then—"

"One, and the same, dearie," he said, tipping his head, answering her question.

"Oh." He raised his eyebrows expectantly, throwing Bella for a second before she realized that he was still waiting for an answer to his previous question. "In the book I read, it described you as a scary, little, midget demon man. It said nothing about the 'Dark One' and—"

"You read about me? Where?"

"It's one of the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales—a famous collection of stories. I read it as a child."

He frowned, and turned on his heel, pacing away from her. "And where did you get this…book?"

"In a bookstore? Or my father got it for me? Honestly, I don't remember. It's everywhere. As I said, it's a famous children's book."

"What else did this book say about me?"

"Nothing more than what I've already told you, except for that in the end, you died and the miller's daughter got to keep her child and became queen. That's it—the end," she said, shrugging. That really was all she could remember.

"And these brothers…who are they?"

"The Brothers Grimm— they were a pair of famous brothers who wrote books, containing these famous fairytales. I believe they were German? Or not. Honestly, I can't remember any more details off the top of my head, other than that they wrote dozens of these stories."

"You met them?"

"No, no, of course not," she said, shaking her head. "They've been dead for at least a couple hundred years."

That gave him pause, and he froze, his head cocking to the side.

"I don't understand it, either," Bella said, reading the question on his face. He stopped, giving her a side-glance, and then resumed his pacing once again. "So, I suppose that the name thing wasn't real either?"

That question brought him to a full stop. "What?"

"In the story—your name. It said that you never tell anyone your actual name—that's why the daughter had to guess."

"Oh, no, that happened."

"Oh." She paused to think. "Then, why did you tell me your name?"

His eyes darted around nervously once again; it was as if he could never keep his body completely still at any given moment. "I'd hoped that you would remember."

"Remember you?"

Rumpelstiltskin's head bowed, and he nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry, I wish that I could help you, but I don't remember you," she said, not knowing what else to say. His palpable sadness made Bella's heart clench, despite everything he had put her through. It was clear that he thought she was someone else; How and why that was the case, she couldn't begin to fathom, but she could tell that the man was in deep pain over it. "This castle," she said, hoping change the subject to relieve him of his misery, "where is it?"

His eyes met hers again in question.

"It's just…I don't know where I am," she said, making a pathetic gesture at the snow-capped mountains outside. "When I, well, you know…ran away from here, I met a man on the road, and he said that we were in the Dark Forest, but couldn't tell me more. Do you have a map, or something, that you could show me?"

He waved her over to the table, and with a flick of his hand, a haze of magenta smoke covered the wooden table for a brief moment, revealing a huge, moving map covering the table in its wake.

While it seemed to be hand drawn, the drawings on it moved. The water rippled, the flags waved on the castle walls, and the text appeared to hover above the tan parchment. As odd as it was, Bella wasn't completely unnerved by it—it was almost like a touch-screen monitor in its own strange way, she rationalized, trying her best to ignore the fact that it was magic, and not a computer, controlling it.

Unfortunately though, it didn't resemble any map—old, new, modern, or otherwise—that Bella had ever seen before. Drawn on it were three main landmasses, each separated by named rivers and oceans, and divided up into marked kingdoms.

"We're here," he said, pointing to a small drawing of a castle, amongst a crop of mountains towards the top right of the map, labeled "Dark Castle" and "Dark Mountains."

_How original_ , she quipped to herself, barely suppressing a grin. She could feel his gaze on her as she took her time looking all over the map, trying to piece together anything from her memory. However, as much as she tried, only the words "Midas" and "Maleficent" looked familiar, and she didn't have the nerve to ask and confirm her suspicions about those names quite yet.

Far to the left of the map was Avonlea, the castle that he had brought her to. Next to it was a body of water, labeled "Endless Ocean," which extended off the map. That, at least, looked promising, if only to show that there was a larger scaled map beyond this one to view and compare.

"What's the scale on this map?"

"Hmm?"

"How far is everything from each other?"

He smirked, twirling his hands in the air. "It depends."

Bella sighed, not amused. "On what?"

"Well, on where you want to go, of course!" he laughed, instantly dropping his gleeful charade when she glared at him. "Ehh…well, you can get here to there," he said, pointing to the farthest point south of the map from the castle, "in six weeks time."

"On foot?"

"Horseback."

"How many miles is that?" Bella tried to look around and estimate how far everything was, but trying to do the exact math without any paper or calculator made her already tired head ache.

"3,459."

She looked up in shock at the exact answer. "Oh."

"Is there a problem?"

"No," she said, trying to hide her surprise by looking back down at the map. "Do you have a larger scale map—or one that shows where this ocean goes?"

"Well, it is the _endless_ ocean, so…no."

"It can't be endless. Isn't there a map that shows its borders, or maybe a round globe?"

"What part of 'endless' is unclear?"

"Well, it can't be endless. It has to border somewhere. Maybe no one has charted it far enough? How can you know that it doesn't end?"

"Magic," he replied flatly, emphasizing his point with a flick of his hand.

_Right._ She sighed again. This was a foolish idea, she thought, chiding herself for thinking that she was actually going to be able to recognize something familiar in this fantastical world.

"What's wrong, dearie?"

Bella looked up over at him and shook her head in frustration. "I don't recognize any of this. I thought…" She sighed again, rubbing her hand over her face. "I thought that if I saw a map, I might be able to recognize something—a continent, an ocean, anything."

"You don't remember."

"No, that's just it!" Bella cried, throwing up her hands. "I _do_ remember, but this—all of this—" she said, gesturing around the room. "This isn't…this _can't_ be real. I mean, you're _Rumpelstiltskin?_ That's just insane! And these places and people on this map," she said, pointing to a small drawing of a castle, "are from stories from my childhood, not actual places. King Midas? Maleficent's castle? Next thing I know, you'll be telling me where Snow White and the seven dwarfs live!"

His eyes widened in clear surprise, and he moved his hand to point to the map.

"Please, don't. I can't," she said, holding out her hand to stop him, not wanting to see what he was about to show her. She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to ground herself as she closed her eyes. "I keep trying; I keep trying to rationalize all of this, to have it make some sort of sense, but then you do these puffs of smoke, and make us move, and make things appear out of thin air, and I don't…it can't be real. Magic doesn't exist. It can't. It's not real, yet I'm seeing it with my own eyes, and I feel like I'm going crazy!"

"You're not crazy," he said quietly beside her.

Bella looked over at him, her chest heaving and eyes burning with unshed tears, and shook her head sadly. "Then, how else can I explain what I'm seeing? I shouldn't…magic doesn't exist…knights don't exist…fairytales…"

"Sit, dearie," he instructed quietly, holding out a chair behind her.

She did so without protest, trying not to think about how the chair wasn't there a second ago. It did feel good to sit down for a minute, and she propped up her elbows up on the table to press her throbbing head between her hands.

"Are you ill?"

"No, I'm fine," she lied miserably, leaning back to look at him. He had moved slightly away, but his expression was one of clear worry, his strange, large eyes appearing even larger than normal as he scanned her face.

Finally, he nodded and stepped away. "You stay here…I'll be right back," he said, spinning on his heel, and then striding quickly out of the room, the doors loudly thudding shut behind him.

Bella could only dumbly stare in the direction that Rumpelstiltskin had vanished to. It felt as if her body was slowly shutting down, and exhaustion was taking over. A warm rush of air tickled her elbow and she looked back at the table, jumping nearly clear out of her seat at the sight—there was now a basketful of muffins, pastries, and berries, along with two chalices filled with liquid, placed on top of the map in front of her.

_Nope. Not going crazy at all._

Her stomach, though, didn't seem to care where the food came from and growled loudly at the delicious, freshly baked smell wafting from the basket.

_One taste._ One taste wouldn't kill her, she rationalized, shrugging off her long fur coat before picking up a safe-looking muffin off the top. She tore off a corner of the strudel topping and tasted it, the sweet crumbly topping melting in her mouth. _God, that's amazing!_

It wasn't until she took another, bigger bite, that she realized how truly hungry she was. When was her last meal? Yesterday? The day before that? She still hadn't confirmed how long she had been knocked out, which, to say the least, was a problem.

She was about to reach for another muffin, when she heard voices arguing out in the hallway, on the other side of the doorway. Curious, she walked over and pressed her ear to the door.

While their conversation was muffled, Bella could tell that it was Rumpelstiltskin arguing with another man. She pressed her ear up closer, trying to hear their actual words, but instead found herself stumbling forward out onto the marble entryway, nearly falling flat on her face.

She froze, and turned towards the two men before her, feeling as if her face was on fire from embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

" _That's_ who you're upset came through the portal?" the stranger asked Rumpelstiltskin, laughing as he pointed to her.

Bella blushed even more in the face of his laughter, and tried to pull herself quickly together, offering him a weak smile in return, not knowing what else to do, or say. The handsome, disheveled brown-haired man returned the greeting with a tip of his head.

This new stranger was dressed somewhat similarly to Rumpelstiltskin, Bella noted, wearing several layers of ornate paisley shirts in rich earth tones under a stiff leather-lined brown coat that fell to his knees.

Rumpelstiltskin, though, shared none of her curiosity towards the man; instead, looked absolutely furious, baring his teeth at the man. "I'm not _upset_ , dearie," he growled. "I want to know what your hat did to her."

"My hat?"

"Yes," Rumpelstiltskin spat, taking a threatening step towards the stranger, his heels clicking loudly on the smooth marble. "That mockery of a portal you gave me. It cursed her—erased her memories."

The man shook his head frantically side-to-side. "No, no, that's impossible. It can't curse anyone—it's just a portal!"

"Then, explain why she can't remember anything."

"I don't know why."

Rumpelstiltskin's face contorted into a cruel smile. "Tick, tock, dearie. Better remember quick, or else, I'll _make_ you remember, and that, I assure you, will be quite unpleasant."

"Wait!"

Both men froze at Bella's outburst, turning towards her in surprise.

"I remember, I do," she said, her quiet voice wavering. "Just not this," she explained, gesturing around the large entryway. "I remember my home, my job, my family, my town, everything…just not here."

"Well, there you go, what's the probl—" The stranger gasped, and reached for his throat, clawing at it, as if fighting off an invisible assailant choking him.

Rumpelstiltskin snarled. "The problem, you insolent, little portal jumper, is that she _should_ remember this. Your hat hurt her, and that, dearie, is unacceptable."

"Stop!" Bella pleaded.

"I…don't…know…" the man wheezed.

"Oh, you're going to come up with a better answer than that!"

The man's eyes bulged as his face began turning a frightening shade of red, his hands clawing frantically at the invisible force choking him.

Bella was horrified. "Stop it. He said he doesn't know! Stop it!"

Rumpelstiltskin titled his head towards her. His dark expression made the blood drain from Bella's face.

"Please," she whispered, "let him go."

He unclenched his hand immediately, and the other man collapsed to the floor. "The lady gave you one more chance—for your sake, you better start talking, Jefferson, because you won't be getting another."

Jefferson continued to heave, doubled over. "Where's the hat?" he gasped.

"What?"

"My hat?" he said, miming the object. "If I see it, I can tell you if it's been damaged. That's the only way," he said, shrugging. "I don't know what else could've happened."

"I don't have it."

"Well, can you get it?"

"It was destroyed."

"Destroyed?"

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. "Is there an echo? Try again, dearie. Next idea."

"How was it destroyed?" Jefferson asked, clearly alarmed.

"How else? By procuring her," he said, pointing to Bella.

"Well, what did you send through it?"

"Nothing."

Jefferson's eyes went wide with surprise. "Nothing?"

"Do you enjoy repeating everything I say? Yes. Nothing," he spat.

"Then, how did she come through? You must have sent something; otherwise, it wouldn't have worked. That's the hat's rule—same amount in, same amount out—it's impossible to break."

"Obviously not."

"Then…" Jefferson paused, thinking, and then turned to Bella. "You say that you can remember everything—no gaps in your memory?"

"Yes."

"And this world that you're from—you remember it in its entirety?"

"Yes. Everything."

"Yet, nothing here feels familiar—you've never been here before?"

Rumpelstiltskin threw up his hands with a frustrated huff. "I believe we've already established that she doesn't remember here. I want to know _why_."

"I remember names, like his," Bella continued, ignoring Rumpelstiltskin's pacing to her right. She was simply excited that this man seemed to be getting an idea and believing her. "But, they're from childhood fairytales—they're not real."

The man quirked his brow. "Interesting. And your clothing—that's normal for where you come from?"

Bella looked down at her muddied suit, and nodded. "Yes. These are just my work clothes."

The man turned back to Rumpelstiltskin. "Have you considered that maybe she's telling the truth?"

"What?" He reared back as if he had been slapped. "No, of course not!"

"Well, maybe, she's telling the truth. Maybe, she's not who you think she is. Maybe…just maybe…she might not be cursed—those memories might actually be hers."

"Yes, thank you!" Bella said, feeling a sense of relief at the man's reasoning.

Rumpelstiltskin, though, looked unconvinced and even madder than he was before. "You're going to bet your life on the suggestion that the Dark One couldn't use a simple portal jumper's hat correctly?"

"No, no. I never said that you didn't make it work!" the man amended quickly, holding his hands up in defense. "You just brought over someone else; someone you didn't intend to."

"I brought over exactly who I wanted to! That's her! That's my Belle!" Rumpelstiltskin roared, pointing at Bella. "And I did _exactly_ what I needed to do to bring her back."

"Back from where?"

"Here."

Jefferson paused, and then frowned. "But, if she was here…then, why did you have to bring her back?"

Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Don't ask things that don't concern you."

"But—" He stopped himself, and held his hand up in surrender once again. "Okay, never mind. But, if you did, in fact, bring her back from here…then, why is she dressed like _that_?" he said, gesturing to Bella. "Maybe…just maybe…you're overlooking what's right in front of you—that that woman is not from our world. The reason she doesn't remember this, isn't because of a curse, it's because you brought her over from another land."

Rumpelstiltskin stared him down, his eyes boring into Jefferson's before his lips drew up into a menacing sneer. "You're wrong."

"Am I?"

His question wasn't directed at Rumpelstiltskin though, he was asking Bella. She worried her lip nervously, not wanting to anger Rumpelstiltskin further, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of hope this man might be right, even if it was as an outrageous of a suggestion that she was from a different world. "I don't know. I think so. But what I _do_ know, is that I'm definitely not from here."

The man smirked at Rumpelstiltskin in satisfaction.

"Can you get me back home?" She saw Rumpelstiltskin's face fall slightly at her suggestion, making her feel strangely guilty for asking, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity.

"Not without my hat."

"Can you make a new one?"

Jefferson shook his head at Bella. "I'm only a portal jumper, and he destroyed my portal."

"But, can't we find another one?" she asked, looking between the pair of them.

"It would depend on what land you wanted to go to, but you would probably have more luck asking him. I found my hat—I didn't make it," he said, shrugging.

"Well, then, it seems that you're of no more use to us, are you?" Rumpelstiltskin declared, waving his hand with a flourish towards Jefferson. A cloud of purple smoke enveloped the man and he vanished into thin air.

Bella gasped and jumped back. "Oh my God! Did you just kill him?"

"No, no. I simply sent him back to where I collected him from. No use in killing him off just yet. He may still prove useful should the need arise," he said brightly, flipping his hand in dismissal, causing Belle to duck. He stilled instantly, and looked down at her with alarm. "What's wrong?"

She grimaced, rising slowly up out of her crouch. "I thought that you were going to, you know, 'zap' me."

His mouth gaped open in stunned surprise. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you just made that man disappear like that."

"I will never hurt you," he said fiercely, staring hard into her eyes.

"Why?" she asked. "Why do you keep saying that? Who do you think I am?"

"Belle," he said, stopping himself as soon as she opened her mouth to correct him. "I need..." He looked around the room as if searching for something, stilling suddenly. "I need you to come with me."

Bella took a step back.

"Please...I think that I know how to fix this," he said, his eyes begging her.

She sighed and nodded. "All right."

Her answer caused a look of pure relief to cross his face. "Okay," he said breathlessly. "Come this way." He turned on his heel, and the dining doors opened before him, as if triggered by a motion sensor switch. However, she now knew otherwise.

Bella still couldn't believe that she was going along with this, believing that his magic was an actual, possible solution to her problem, but after all she had seen, she couldn't deny its existence anymore. And if it allowed her to get home, she would do whatever was necessary.

"Was he right?" she asked, trailing behind him.

Rumpelstiltskin stopped at once, and turned around to face her. "What?"

"About me? Did you really bring me here from another world?" She grimaced, biting her lip in embarrassment that she had even voiced such a ridiculous question.

He sighed, looking suddenly as tired as Bella felt; the fearsome man from a minute before replaced by the quieter, smaller man before her. "I don't know," he murmured, chancing a brief glance at her, before he turned and walked away.

_Well great_ , Bella sighed. She followed him to the opposite side of the room; he paused, stopping before one of the display pedestals in front of the glass display case. Bella looked down, and jumped away. _Is that a_ hand _?_

Her question died on her lips, as he turned back around to her, cradling a small, white teacup in his hands.

Curious, she followed him back to the dining room table. He placed it carefully on the polished wood, and then took a slight step away, looking up at her expectantly.

"What is that?" she asked gently, not understanding what he wanted her to say. It was just a cup.

His face tightened in pain at her answer, his jaw visibly clenching as he looked away.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you want me to say." She hated causing this man so much pain, but she didn't know what to else say. He kept testing her, kept believing that she was someone else, and she felt at a loss as to what to do to prove otherwise to him.

"Nothing," he said quietly, his hands becoming animated once again. He waved one finger, and a now familiar cloud of purple smoke to appeared, vanishing just as quickly to reveal a small glass bottle now in his hand, filled with a gleaming blue substance that glowed with an inner light, nearly fluorescent.

"What's that?"

He ignored her, uncorking the bottle to pour it out into the teacup. He re-corked the golden stopper, and picked up the cup once again, this time holding it out towards her. "If you drink this," he said, his singsong voice barely audible, "you'll be able to remember."

Bella balked at his strange offering, watching the strange, glowing liquid swirl in the chipped cup. "No."

"Bel—"

"No. I'm not drinking that," she said, cutting him off. "I have no idea what that is. I'm not going to drink it."

"It won't harm you. It's simply a memory potion. It will counteract any effects that the hat had on your memory."

"But my memory's fine."

"Please," he begged. "Please, drink it. I swear won't ask any more of you than this."

Bella's heart began to pound in her chest, as she looked down at the strange liquid, and then back up again at the man who called himself Rumpelstiltskin. "If I do this, will you finally believe me and let me go home?"

"Yes, yes," he said quickly, lifting the cup to her again.

She hesitated. "You first."

Rumpelstiltskin's face twitched, and he tilted his head, frowning at her request.

"I'll drink it, if you drink it first."

"Dearie, this potion causes one to remember all of their memories. Something like that doesn't interact well with what I am."

Bella swallowed, steadying herself. "It's that, or no deal."

Rumpelstiltskin held her challenging gaze, and then after a long moment, lifted the cup to his lips and sipped from it. He placed it back on the table, and resumed his place next to her.

A second passed before a thin sheen of purple magic appeared, washing over his features. Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he sucked in a sharp breath. He stood rigid, bracing against some unseen force, as his face twitched in pain.

Suddenly, without warning, he was released from whatever hold the potion had on him and he opened his eyes once again.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," he breathed, nodding, looking out of sorts.

"Are you sure? It looked like you were in pain—"

"I'm fine," he said flatly, forcing the grimace from his face.

Bella glanced over at the cup on the table, its glowing contents moving in a lazy clockwise swirl within. _If you do this, he'll let you go home. Just a sip, and you can go home._ She looked up; Rumpelstiltskin was standing as taut a bow before her, obviously waiting for her next move. Before she could think further and talk herself out of it, Bella picked up the cup and took a single gulp.

The liquid tingled in her mouth, causing her tongue to go numb as it slid down her throat. Its bitter taste was strange, but not nearly as unpleasant as she expected it to be, reminding her somewhat of cough syrup.

Bella frowned at the lack of effect the potion had. "What is it supposed to d—?" Without warning, a fierce barrage of memories hit her all at once, cutting off her question. She staggered backward, watching the nostalgic tableau pass before her, starting with her earliest recollections of her father and her on Christmas morning, to high school and going to the prom with Gaston, to when she graduated from college and started her practice in town, each passing in quick succession, as if she was watching her entire life on fast forward.

As quickly as it had started, it stopped, the memories ceasing after showing her taking the potion, fading away back to wherever they came from.

She opened her eyes slowly, not realizing that she had shut them. Rumpelstiltskin was standing before her, looking at her with his strange intensity, his eyes searching her face.

"Belle?"

"What? No," she said. "Isabella."

His jaw dropped at her answer, looking as if she had punched him. His chest began to heave as his eyes searched hers frantically. "No, no, what's your name?"

"Isabella French."

His face crumpled, giving way to unguarded pain at her answer, which he quickly hid, turning his face away from her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't mean…please…what do you want me to say?"

He looked back, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "You don't remember, do you?"

She shook her head sadly. "Not this, no," she said, gesturing around the room, "I remembered everything else, but not you. I'm sorry."

He nodded to himself, and picked up the cup once again, giving it one careful turn in his hands. Quickly, and without preamble, he turned on his heel and walked stiffly back over to the pedestal, placing the cup back on the display.

Bella watched him, not knowing what to do or say now. She felt an urge to go comfort him, to say _something_ to take away this man's grief, but before she could get a chance, he turned back around, his face showing no hint of the emotion that had been on it a second before.

"Forgive me," he said flatly, tilting his head towards her.

Before she could respond, he turned and walked away from her once again; the doors nearest to him swinging open before him, as he strode out without another word, leaving her all alone.

…

Several hours later, or at least, what seemed to be several hours later, from as much as Bella could estimate without a clock, she was back once again in the dining room, sitting alone, waiting for Rumpelstiltskin to return.

After he had first left her, Bella had been at a loss for what to do. Her first instinct had been to leave, but she had only made it as far as the front door before she turned back around and walked back to the dining room.

It wasn't lost on her that she was returning to the very man who had kidnapped her, instead of running away. However, after her experience in the village yesterday, along with the discombobulating realization that somehow she had become a modern-day Dorothy in Oz, she knew that it would be foolish to leave. At least not without some understanding of the place she was now in.

The one thing in her favor, or so it appeared, was that this man, this Rumpelstiltskin, wasn't going to hurt her. Yes, he definitely had little problem hurting others, but so far, it seemed, at least to Bella, that she was safe from him doing anything to her. She could only hope that the same rules still applied, now that it seemed that he was beginning to accept that she wasn't "Belle."

Who this "Belle" was intrigued her, especially since Bella assumed that she must be at least similar enough in appearance for Rumpelstiltskin to mistake her for this mysterious doppelganger. Clearly, it was someone that he loved very much, and had since lost. More unnerving was the knowledge that something tragic had likely happened to her, since he had kept stressing that he had "saved" her from death. Despite all that she had been through, Bella couldn't help but feel a deep pang of sadness in the face of his stark grief, knowing that she couldn't do anything but cause more of it.

In addition to composing her thoughts, the opportunity alone had also given her ample time to examine the objects around the room, including the moving map, which had reappeared on the table after she had finished eating.

All of the places on the map seemed to have been taken directly from every children's book and story she had ever read. In fact, from the severed hand, which she still hoped wasn't real, to the sword, which she had an inkling could just be the real Excalibur, all of the treasures around her seemed to be the genuine articles featured in these fairytales. And as much as she told herself that they couldn't possibly be real, here they were, placed right in front of her, close enough to touch.

A loud creak pierced the silence, startling Bella, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin, as she whirled around towards the noise. She relaxed immediately, seeing that it was only Rumpelstiltskin, emerging through the doors nearest to her, looking as though he was trying to sneak in.

Once inside, he jerked to a stop, as if just noticing her presence.

"You're still here."

Bella's heart began to race. "I'm sorry…did you want me to leave?"

"No."

"Because, I—"

"Don't leave," he said sharply, causing her to flinch at his commanding tone. He grimaced, holding out his hands in apology. "You may do whatever you wish," he said, calming his voice. "You don't have to leave."

"Okay," she said, still unnerved. "Thank you."

He waved her off, walking over towards the spinning wheel. "Don't thank me, dearie. I've done you no favors."

"But you have," she said, following him. "Those men from the tavern—they were going to kill me, or rape me, or both."

"Those men were bringing you to me."

Bella flinched, jerking back. "What?"

"They were returning you to me," he said, his voice barely audible.

"Why?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked away. "They thought that you had escaped, and wanted a reward, as well as not to risk punishment for hiding you away."

"Is that why you let me go?"

His head snatched upwards. "What?"

"Is that why you let me go? Because you knew that they would bring me back to you?"

"No," he spat, shaking his head. "If I had known, I never would have…I thought that you would have gotten assistance in that town to get home. That you would've remembered. Not what happened instead," he said, gesturing with distaste.

"You watched me?"

His response was a guilty look, which he tried to hide by turning his head away.

"Well, thank you for helping me at any rate. Those men…" She bowed her head; the horrible memories of her attempted mugging coming back to her. "Thank you for saving me."

"I was hardly your savior, dearie. What was done to you was because of me."

"Did you order it?"

"No."

"Then, I don't blame you."

"You should."

"But, I don't."

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her for a long moment, and then turned away, walking over to the window.

Bella stood back, watching his reflection through the window, not knowing what to say. He didn't seem to know either, as he engaged in a private conversation with himself, his head shaking slightly.

Suddenly, he froze, catching Bella's reflection in the glass, and he schooled his face immediately.

She looked away immediately, feeling sheepish for watching him.

"I'm sorry" he said quietly, breaking the silence for her, his hands fluttering at his side. He turned back around, his ever-moving hands trying to speak for him as he swallowed hard, his eyes looking everywhere but at her own.

Bella smiled, trying to put him at ease. "It's all right. I know that you didn't intend to bring me here."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's not. Intent is meaningless."

"No, intent is pretty much everything, and I don't think yours was malicious."

"It—The last thing I would want…" He stopped, looking away.

Bella found herself overwhelmed with pity for this strange man before her, her chest literally aching at the rawness of his suffering. She walked up to him and placed her hand on his arm.

He flinched away from her touch, his eyes darting nervously to the floor.

"It's okay," she said. "I may not understand any of this, but I do believe you. I know that you didn't intend to hurt me."

He simply nodded, keeping his eyes averted all the while.

"Do you think you can try and bring me home?"

"I can try."

That admission made her almost sigh in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, dearie."

"Bella."

His strange eyes shot up to hers, his confusion clear.

"My name." She shrugged, offering a shy smile. "My friends call me Bella."

"Bella," he repeated, emphasizing the two syllables. He took a step back, and bow deeply, holding his hands out to the side. "Rumpelstiltskin," he said, rolling his "R" with a flourish.

Bella chuckled at his over-the-top greeting, and managed a little courtesy as well. _When in Rome…_ she thought, laughing at herself _._ "Pleasure to meet you."

Her gesture relaxed him, erasing the tension that had been there a moment before. "Bella," he said, after a long moment, "When you said that magic doesn't exist, what did you mean?"

"Exactly that. It doesn't exist, or well, I had thought that it didn't exist until you did your little purple smoke deal," she said, mimicking his hand gesture. "Where I come from, magic is simply an illusion, it's not real."

"So, you come from a world without magic?" he asked slowly, looking at her as if he was seeing her, believing her, for the first time.

"Yes."

"None of this," he said, gesturing around, "exists in your world?"

"Long ago in the past, I suppose, in terms of the castles, and the style of dress, but not magic—never that."

He frowned, and then walked over towards the spinning wheel in the corner, running his hand along the wheel.

"Why do you ask?"

His hand froze on the wheel, and his glanced over his shoulder, his lips quirking up into a smile. "I believe that this might work out for us after all."

Belle followed him over to the wheel, intrigued. "How so?"

"Well, you see, portal jumping is unfortunately somewhat out of my purview. However," he continued brightly, holding up his finger, "that doesn't mean that I don't have other ways of getting you home."

"Really?"

"Yes. Lucky enough for you, it just so happens that we want the same thing. You see," he said, pausing and looking up at her intensely. "I want to get to your world too."


End file.
